Falling Apart

I don’t know when I lost you
Or when I lost myself
Beneath the crescent moon
Bathed by clear night’s scars
I don’t know when I lost you
Or when you lost yourself

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Mendip Morning

Flickering leaf
Your life so small
Backdrop against the cloud
Grey turning to gold
Bringing the morning
Breeze blown streams
Beside you the tree

The tree is already bare
Slimmed down to a minimal load
For the winter ahead
Blues and pinks
Wander over the skyline
Shepard’s warning red sky morning
Still like a skeleton
Magnificent from branch to branch
Closing down for another year
No nests to survive

Just you and the sky
With your friend in the foreground
Still covered in leaf
Every cloud has a silver lining
In this early sunrise morning
Bewitched by the gaze of pink and blue

Light glorious light

From where once again
Your pleasure never stops calling
The levels and the Mendips
Under water-born dew
Natural friendships;

Oaks, sycamores, sunlight
Shadows cast across the canal
Into the orchard

Seeking
The laws of relative relativity
Rising by the metre
Rising by the mile
Over railway lines and radio waves
The horizon becomes the centre
Setting balance in the work
The low tree's red leaves are waking
The cold grass aglow

With deeply sprinkled sunshine
Pathways wandering in the waves of fall
Warmth rising

From between the space and the time
From between the here and the now

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And So We Go Our Own Way

And so we go our own way
A path not trod before
Each bracken broken
A breaking new
We know this way to be our own way
Our own not known before
Each thought awoken
A thinking new
With light and might we walk our own way
Stealth of stride alone no more
Each slice of slight
Incite light new
And so we go our own way
But thanks
Thanks for this bit of street light
Given in your own way

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Summing up

The thing

That I am least good at

Is doing it now

Which

In turn

Means

The thing

That I am best at

Is procrastination

If you will

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Follow on

Here we are

Here and now

At

The penultimate page

What does this mean

For the next

Notebook

Does one think

I ought to be

Decisive

But to be honest

That’s not my style

Although perhaps

To have space

For longer poems

Yes that’s the one

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