Invisible Ball of Wool

I have no more than time, my time
Total; yes that’s true I have my mind,
My mind; that’s hopeful

Sat in the warmth of my own self
My own self, ushered by the peace
Quiet; a quiet wealth

I close my eyes to hear the stars
Faraway; gaze, folded across the
Sky; a clear symbiosis

Blood circulates, I would say free
Free as my heart; I have no more than
Time; my time, total

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High Peak

There is more than a chance
More than cuboids in translation
You would know, poked with a lance,
The freedom of the merest complication
Walk as you would up through the fields
Your eyes blessed, by sight of straight
Ploughed furrows, and the flight of
The well made, dry stone walls

Remember the farmers dance
Silage, as the backdrop sensation
No more in it than a sideways glance
The intricacies of interwoven duplication
Walk as you would to the high ground
Your soul refreshed, by the light on
The sheaves of corn, the light of
Well made thoughts for the day

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Early Summer Stroll

Easy on the eye
A steady walk
Exercise dog
Chance conversations
Time away from wives
Out from under feet
Tomorrow, fishing
Today, catching air

Different from
Coal face
Pit props creaking
Kind of darkness
Under cloudless sky
Under moon and stars
A couple of pints
Home made pie

Good to get out
Leave well alone
You never know
How lucky you are
You never know
How lucky you are
Are you filming?

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Birdsedge at Noon

Do you remember the copse; a small circle of trees around a pond, overlooked by the mill
Windows; drowned by the sound; whistling cocks shuttled ever so quickly, to and fro
Ducks I see now; mothers with their youngsters in tow; bread crumbs at lunchtime
Cast by the office workers; sitting on the benches, with their salad pack delicacies

Do you remember the bluebells on the nature walk; a walk to the big house, in the country park
Excitement encouraged; skipping, listening to softly spoken subtle words, guided slow
Luckily I see kids now; playing with their parents who have become full grown
Soft sun at lunchtime, cast who knows how; fitting on the clouds, beside the rainbow racks

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No. 35

The cold wind cuts into the frozen shoulder; whinge

Steel tipped heels skate over the frozen pond; squeal

All I wanted was to create a Lowry or a Giacometti sculpture

All I wanted was to make a film with subtitles; pan & zoom

The tickets are taken; dispensed, formed into an orderly queue

Smooth groomed hair sits; uneasy beside tic-tac trainer shoes

All I wanted was to paint a picture; a snapshot of ordinary life; ordinarily

All I wanted was to capture the time; in the hospital waiting room; waiting

The cold wind cuts into the frozen north; we sit here quietly, proud

Steel tipped heels skate over the frozen pond; we remember those days of laughter

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