Gold Dust - Made From Solid Gold

This is not about love

I have already been too careless with that

This is about being free

To be alone with the loneliness

Also about waste

To have wasted three score year and ten 

To end up nowhere, with next to nothing

Except the buckets full of memories

 

Behold - Hold Steady

The candle lights the room

A small room, with no windows

This is a safe place

My safest place

We wanted

To share our bodies

I wanted yours

You wanted mine

But the world was not ready

For our connection

For our collision

For our night under the stars

The fade

Begins to fade

The excitement

Calms to a storm for no one

 

Tricks - Of Disappearance

I write to no one

The fountain flows no more

Yet

There is a lightness

An emptiness

Beginning to dance

I write to any one

Even those

Who are not here

Yet whose spirit

Flows in and out

Of all of my minds

 

Racket - Of Sorts

Tinnitus

Or stereo soundscapes

Which or which

Let’s you know

That life is still with you

And that sloping roof

Beyond the hedgerows

Why and why

Is it at a right angle

To my window

Piano

And or violin

Out of both speakers

As I ponder

And deliberate

That such a voice

Can take me back

To such poor decisions

In the long

And distant past

 

Day Out - To The Old Places

Beside the canal

By the empty reservoir

At the entrance to the tunnel

In the spring sunshine

Of one more leap year

What kind of town is this

What kind of town is the other

Either way

They are both a long way away

And that’s a fact

But then again

Not many places can be nearby

If as you say that the sea

Is one half of nearby

To your home locale

Whereas before

On the spine of the country

Where moorland, and peat, and bog

Happily co-exist, in more or less

Equal measure, to the rain