The air of past permissions
Rings quietly anew
No amount of indecisions
Can taint the favoured hue
O ship of ice
O sky of blue
O tumbling spice
O pray be true
The fair of cold collisions
Rings quietly anew
No count of derisions
Can paint the boarding crew
O ship of ice
O sky of blue
O tumbling spice
O pray be true
Thursday 5 April 2018
Wednesday 4 April 2018
Indelible
How easy it is
To change a word or phrase
Either to save face, or
To create an entire new meaning
How insincere the lead pencil
Which allows the eraser
To make disappear
What once was gifted
So, in the next book
A return to pen and ink
Once more to go down the tramlines
To a certain, if unreachable, destination
To change a word or phrase
Either to save face, or
To create an entire new meaning
How insincere the lead pencil
Which allows the eraser
To make disappear
What once was gifted
So, in the next book
A return to pen and ink
Once more to go down the tramlines
To a certain, if unreachable, destination
Tuesday 3 April 2018
Worthy In Wortley
Sat
With my arm on the warm radiator
Waiting
For my tea-time meal to be served
There you have it
In my 65th year
Not too too cold too too often
Not too too hungry, or anywhere near
So, a charmed life
Do I hear you say
Or an ordinary life
For those who know me better
With my arm on the warm radiator
Waiting
For my tea-time meal to be served
There you have it
In my 65th year
Not too too cold too too often
Not too too hungry, or anywhere near
So, a charmed life
Do I hear you say
Or an ordinary life
For those who know me better
Monday 2 April 2018
Tell, Tell Somebody
I ought to write
About the light fading
About the wind turbines
Slowing down
About the frost
Laying deep, and crisp, and even
I ought to tell you
That this is the top
Of the Pennines, near to
My forefather’s roots
That nearby are still
Some of my family
I could tell you
That as I sat, in those
Spare few moments
And after
A calm conversation
With my eldest son
I had an empathy
For everyone who
Feels themselves
To be alone
Or feels themselves
To be lonely
I know that the emerging
Darkness, and the loss
Of the horizon
Will do little
Or nothing at all
To relieve their pain
I have all but completed
My Christmas shopping
Cards, and gifts
For family and friends
Who, through my sixty-five years
Have mostly spared me
From the emptiness of loneliness
About the light fading
About the wind turbines
Slowing down
About the frost
Laying deep, and crisp, and even
I ought to tell you
That this is the top
Of the Pennines, near to
My forefather’s roots
That nearby are still
Some of my family
I could tell you
That as I sat, in those
Spare few moments
And after
A calm conversation
With my eldest son
I had an empathy
For everyone who
Feels themselves
To be alone
Or feels themselves
To be lonely
I know that the emerging
Darkness, and the loss
Of the horizon
Will do little
Or nothing at all
To relieve their pain
I have all but completed
My Christmas shopping
Cards, and gifts
For family and friends
Who, through my sixty-five years
Have mostly spared me
From the emptiness of loneliness
Sunday 1 April 2018
That One Window
The light was cold
The wet tarmac
Reflected the sun
Causing me
To close my eyes
This is December I thought
Late on in my life
Yet I feel
Way younger
Than those about me
The morning's pain
Is in the very centre
Of my upper back
Just below
The neckline
The day is calm
Although
The tea bags are split
And have made a mess
I send an email to complain
The wild green moss
On next doors
Rickety shed roof
Glistens, as do the catkins
Which wave in the breeze
The wet tarmac
Reflected the sun
Causing me
To close my eyes
This is December I thought
Late on in my life
Yet I feel
Way younger
Than those about me
The morning's pain
Is in the very centre
Of my upper back
Just below
The neckline
The day is calm
Although
The tea bags are split
And have made a mess
I send an email to complain
The wild green moss
On next doors
Rickety shed roof
Glistens, as do the catkins
Which wave in the breeze
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)