I look
At the nine
New notebooks
It is time
To press on
Time to interrupt the delay
But first
To tell you of the sunlight
To tell you
Of the canons of inspiration
Such strombolic music
To accompany
The bending light
The rainbow waveforms
Emanating
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
I look
At the nine
New notebooks
It is time
To press on
Time to interrupt the delay
But first
To tell you of the sunlight
To tell you
Of the canons of inspiration
Such strombolic music
To accompany
The bending light
The rainbow waveforms
Emanating
How long to have been away
So difficult to return
Especially as the pen
Is not flowing freely
Yes, the Berlin Blue
Is in need of replenishment
As also is the soul of this writer
On a quite troublesome day
Yet the debt must be repaid
To have lived such a good life
Without giving an ounce of thanks
Is not praise as praise should be
How long then until the next time
What certainty of pessimism
Might cause the words to dry up
Or, to dry out, may read better
There is always a distance
A gradual wandering pathway
Through climbing moorland streams
The new year diet is begun
Music, art, literature
And a little less food
Yes down to sixteen hundred
Calories a day
For the next three months
Mind you, the walking
Hasn’t taken off
Like it should have
It’s just not in me
Not in this dull cold weather
Where I prefer to play
With inkblots
And spots of memories
From the near and distant past
When I encouraged
The Rorschach test
I do intend to begin the new year
With a more inward looking journey
Which is what I am trying to realise
That is, this is what I hope to find
I am not alone in having lost a lover
Of that I am 100% certain
I am though entirely alone in dealing with it
In the way which I try to deal with it
I know that it goes dark outside
Also that that happens earlier
In winter rather than in summer
I know too that loss goes darker
If all that I am is all that I am
Then what am I to worry about
But if I also try to include you
Does that not create a new story
Once upon a time, long ago
I did include you
Indeed thoughts of you preceded all
I was going to have just one more
But then, out of the Celebrations
Bumper Christmas re-seal packet
My hand emerged with a Twix
And a Mars bar, honestly
I had no choice did I
I hate the Twix first
But then, I thought of Fee Griffin’s poetry
Another Christmas gift
But from a more familiar source
Who also gave me
The Hero With A Thousand Faces
Only two of which I will use
To tell you that today is Sunday
And the sun shines brightly
To ward off storm Bella
Who is the real reason why