Unregulated oblivion

Darkness she fairly

Scared you

Feared you

Of the morning light

Never to be awakened

By mother

By mother nature

With her morning, her morning knights

The sleep is such a treasure

A personal unregulated oblivion

Safe places

Safe and alone

Deep into your own darkness

Never to be awakened

Never to hear the cry

The joyful cry of life

Of happiness and bliss

Of softness, and soft lips kissed

Darkness she now so so rarely

Scares you

Without fear you bathe

In her golden morning light

Forever to be wakened

By mother and father and son

By brothers and sisters and lovers

Awakened by everyone, and all

Of those who fight the darkness of nights

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Still

Just after the peak experience

Or not long after making love

Out on the highway

Somewhere between

The street and the sky

Old houses, flowered gardens

Mysterious celebrations

Untouched garlands, just out of reach

In the soft haze of summer

Or back beyond past centuries

Trinkets, fairies, and geodesic domes

Flounce flared skirts

Tapes to the maypole

Twisted with skips only knowing of joy

Wrapping the joy of unconditional love

Still, time reflects on ever

As feet in dappled water

Out on the sandbank

Somewhere between

The neap and the tide

Still, lines reflect now never

Meet my star-spangled daughter

Wow, way out of the moment

Somewhere between

Here and why

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Poets, Painters and Musicians

Over the water

Into kitchens full of stories

Of wizards and witches

Weather gods

To set the farmers free

Land below the water line

Beyond the freedom fields

Laid to rest long before the winter

Fallow fields this year

Fallow folds appear

Our endless deserts

Lost of love

Unquestioning in haste

Wandering families; farmers

And gypsies, and bedouins in transit

Land above the waste line

Beyond the freedom fields

Stay unblessed long before

The sun-cracked earth came this year

For earth fractures to re-appear

Over all our homelands

Care is overflowing, falling over with love

Innocent children are hopeful

Of life itself as discovered by poets and painters

And musicians,  all who are really just ordinary people

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Jake, please

This is the morning

All of a muddle

All getting ready

To step into puddles

And catch the gravy trains

Down there in London

On the bus

On the tube

Rides in tunnels going nowhere

Trains returning back home again

This is just a little while later

The garden gate swings open

Scented roses, loud and proud

Stand out, without shrouds

In the full view of the meadow

Back here in Lincoln

In the cathedral, feet without shoes

Verses whispered

Songs unsung

Undone by rhythms and blues

This is the coffee time

Scones and jam and cake

Words fall over, words stand by

Jake, please

Rake those fake leaves away

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Rinse

Back still

With the ripple

Of step-down falling water

Restored

To lay over

The endless drone

Of articulated lorries

Whose highway robbery

Is to steal the silence

The quiet

Of lost generations

With ill-fitting clothes

And, shall we say

Creative

Colour combinations

It is a blue grey

Clear cloudy sky day

It has been, ever since morning

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