Eighty One

A footpath
Of cobbled stone
With granite slate
All maintained
By the National Trust

The camera says
It’s had enough
So these here words
Will have to suffice
To describe the view

Bums on boulders
Feet on ferns
Sandwiches
In the plastic bag
(Biodegradable)

The gill
For that is why
We have ventured off-road
It is as white as sour milk
Hence the name

Across the way
Higher, then higher still
Up there on the summit
Matchstick Men
In the style of LS Lowrie

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Eighty

Take your time
Follow
The mindful way of life

Take your time
Glide through the hollow
Covered by the trees of life

Stand in line
Borrow
From the mindful way of life

Stand in line
Free from sorrow
Gifted by the stillness of life

Find the sign
Climb
Into the mindful way of life

Find the sign
Peaceful for the mind
Beauty in the love of life

Turn to kind
Learn to unwind
With the mindful way of life

Turn to kind
Seek to find
Care in a carefree kind of life

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Seventy Nine

Who was there
Who wasn’t there
Was everybody there
Was I the only one absent

The window was open
Throughout the night
I needed fresh air
I wanted fresh air

No matter
That your shoulder
Might have caught the draught
Causing you a relapse

The autumn colours
Already beautiful
Yet, so we are told
Better still in two weeks time

Then to walk
On the decking
Over the bog, over the marsh
To see the magnificent grasses

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Seventy Eight

One word a page
One word a day
Beginning with love
Going who knows which way

Silent meditation
In a silent hall
Silent meditation
Going wherever to call

Climbing hills
With morning footsteps
Climbing hills
Going to whatever’s next

A wandering person
Who wished me joy
A wandering person
Going on to become the boy

In mind, in body
Here on retreat
In mind, in body
Going on to the steadier seat

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Seventy Seven

A Quaker Hotel
On radio interview day
His accent so swell
Talking of play

His girlfriend asleep
On the back of the bike
Nude swimmers in deep
With his karma to strike

Thunder, lightning
Then missing the boat
The snow was whitening
His car sliding, as if afloat

Jack Simmons bowled him out
In no time at all
So he went ride-about
From the ferry, to Donegal

I tell of that night
Midnight on the M62
What a magnificent snow sight
My story, also told for you

Wagons, then cars
Opening the blockade
Policemen under the stars
Watch the free-thinkers on parade

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