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Saturday 17 January 2015

The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 5

Shall I walk also
Return, to sit and talk
And laugh just as he did

Not easy to know where to start & if I do not know where to start then where should I enquire? What should I let be the forces to take me? It seems the big question always hangs about, there but not talked of; no venture to challenge, instead I settle for an I that enjoys breath and beauty. Yet is this sufficient, are there purposes to this life still to be explored, if so what tools should I gather, to gain the certainty of discovery.

Arthur cut up his bread
Weighed it, before and after the spread of butter
Taught me how to drink eggs - though I cannot do it now
A small man, five foot four at the most
Always clean shaven, thin grey hair neatly brushed
Often he wore a knee length, fawn raincoat
On top of a good, but old, bespoke tailor-made suit
His photograph, taken at Lands End stood by the signpost
That shows all the places that he and Elsie might have gone

We made each other laugh, I thought he had subtle humour, I was brash. More than humour we both had a desire for learning; Arthur Kaye told me of his going to management college, to learn business skills, because the factory owners son wasn't up to it. I told him about Nikola Tesla and Michael Faraday, from my world of Electrical Engineering. Even then, thirty years ago I recognised in my grandfather a sense of calm and assurance that I continue to seek. Yet in his final days he became angst and angry, angry with the whole world; I was completely confused, some days I still am.

I have the energy to make her laugh
Though I doubt that to be uncommon
Equally I have the power, or reserve, to wish I had not gone a step too far
It is it seems, always about knowing where to start, where to end
Yes I do have untrammelled enthusiasm
Ability to become engrossed, carried away
Without thinking to understand about the serious implications of the detail
That will undoubtably follow. That is the hub of it
Laughter
Love



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Friday 16 January 2015

The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 4

Sea of deepest Prussian blue
Line of horizon, broken
By the rotunda of an island
A resting place for poetry or prayer

Tiredness strikes on the long road home
It is time to sympathise with the years

Gulls glide past the cafe window
I take Americano, strong & black
Stare wilful into the clear all day sky
To set out again - that is my intention

A face of disappointment
And once again she looks disappointed
Her already well overweight daughter
Opts for a second piece of pecan pie

Home
To the big skies
To the tree lined byways
Hedgerows in blossom
Home to the East
Where loves hold lies longing

Eight red lights
That don't quite reach the sky
Even tonight
When all is clear
When all is plain to see

Water, elemental
Steams over my body
Later
I will take a few lengths in the pool

Am I to understand
This thing called life
Am I to take the rest
As a sabbatical
As my grandfather walked



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Thursday 15 January 2015

The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 3

You give me the time
Time to sit
Or lay
Time to breathe
Or gaze

Time to write
Grant you
The peace
Inside & outside
The window

Windows darken
Skies close
To naught but absence
Matisse draws the evening to a close

Bright sunshine
Mild frost
Rabbits in the field
Mist rises over the pond

Sweet damp grass
Fresh dew of the morning
Blueberries, yoghurt, muesli
Hot buttered toast

Mist drawn away
Blue sky reaches unbroken to the horizon
Trees appear at the head of the field

Am I to be
Any less troubled
Or how to stay calm
When friction is obvious
Strongly felt

Sunlight through my window
Look, over the pond
Swifts in flight
Be dazzled by their skylight dance 


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Wednesday 14 January 2015

The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 2

Am I to tell
Of a late afternoon
Whose gift of joy
Was so swiftly taken
By the dark impounding clouds

Am I to bare my soul
Say that happiness fleetingly landed
But was unable to stay
Or gather to enrapture

Bare branches
Net curtains
Silver white sky
A painting by Mildred Bartee
Natures spring shadows
Hung on the alabaster wall

Blue sky
Jet stream
Rows of mountain bikes
Cigarette smoke wafts as
Smokers drift along the terrace

Still pond as reflector
Of the YKB above
As if by Magritte himself

Energetic birds
Sing and swoop
More delicate birds
Pick at the feeder

I eat seed with my breakfast
The plain white bowl
Sits on a painted table mat

A woodpecker
By an unknown artist
One whose royalties
Are sure to have expired


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Tuesday 13 January 2015

The long and the short of a part of my life Volume 1 Page 1

Pull away
From fire and silver sunsets
Pull away
From ploughed and furrowed ground

Head towards
The clearer big skies
Head towards
The soft and gentle mound

Days
Days to dwell at the time of dusk
Days
Days to warm to the smell of musk

Sprays
Sprays at the core or windfall husk
Sprays
Sprays at the call for more childhood rusk

Sunlight
Sprinkled
Through the early summer leaves
Becoming of a variegated global motif

Blossom
Fallen with the falling rain
Becoming of a silken pink translucent emblem

Taken
Together
Parted
As ever

Time slips
Into dark
Time slips
I hear the lark


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