Metaphors like similes
Alluring alliteration
Onomatopoeic sounds
Swish swash through its creation
Full of figurative constructions
To skyscrapers of the soul
That rise to a crescendo
Then with bathos quickly fall
So what is it I have written?
Just a stream of consciousness?

For if I claim a classic poem
Then you’d be right to take the …. :)

Methinks, Thou canst a secret keep
Pray listen to these words I speak
For they must bind alone to thee
And not for other souls to see
If thou believe that I speak true,
Come stroll with me
Cross morning dew

Where I shall, ‘pon hallowed ground,
Twixt inn and spire, with ne’er a sound,
Make with thee a tryst of love,
Befitting as a hand in glove
And such power the world shall speak in awe,

‘Til this fair world doth turn no more


RD©2012

H alloween is come again
  O ctober’s date with fate, so
    B eware the dusky fields and of
      G oing home too late
        O n every dark damp driveway
          B ewitched with candlelight
            L anterns smile ghoulishly
              I nsanely through the night
               N o one saw just how she went
                 S he simply vanished in thin air
R emoved from all her earthly friends
  U nder cold demonic stare, so
     L eave the spelling to the wizards for
       E nchantments can be tragic
O r just pay heed to what I write and
   K eep away from Magic!


Nos  Dolbru

Sometimes she is a steam train,
All fire and noise, sizzling, powerful
Too hot to touch …
Almost.

And sometimes she is tree
Growing, blossoming, strengthening and seeding,
Increasing to a golden leafed complexity,
Before disrobing once more

And yet she is too a river, deep with secrets,
Wide with acceptances, bubbling and meandering and
flowing gentle round obstacles

Then is love the water that makes all her ways possible?
For then rain cannot disappoint
Tis drought I fear most.

Some stars shine their light above
Some stars we give for merit
And some we watch on stage and screen
Those names that top the credits

Shooting stars endow a wish
A few keep secrets true
(The Head of MI5 – you say)
(Yes she was Stella too!)

But celestially the stars up there
Made atoms for our blood and air
And the elements of heavy stuff
Required a few to die for us
Exploding brightly, Nova’s Glory
To allow us all to tell a story

So what’s this mean?
I always knew
The hearts of stars
Are me and you

Ideas and Feelings inevitably start
From deep inside a pregnant heart
Ideas ! But surely the brain is the thing?
Yet brains fall dumb when heart doth sing.

So many a notion is drowned at birth
As for emotion; they often fare worse
For dreams never fly until they’re set free
So “When ?”to release them , you ask of me

Well if  ever’s the time to make them true
Then do it today
Whilst that moon’s shining blue.


Well not literally, but astronomically speaking, it is tonight !

Thirty years has somehow passed,
And most of that indecent fast,
With pain, with joy,
But from first to last,
Little change, My Boy.

Retracing the steps, from the first time around,
But by myself, with time to spare,
To think, to dare
The memories abound.

The flagstones are the same unique, crack patterned lane,
Of a life.

Enough remains to bolster my mind,
But the pain is warm, of the welcoming kind,
For every place had its time,
And every time its place,
Even if now it’s diluted by knowledge and grace.

For though tempered by time,
Some thoughts burn as bright,
Tennis court by day,
Kiss by those roses, that night,
For wherever, whenever, my travels might be,
Still a part of me’s here,
A part of here’s me.

Endless rain falling
Felines and Canines abound
Sod of a drought!

If it were just the thought of you
That was running through my head
Then with grim determination
I could put that thought to bed
But the thought begat a feeling
And that feeling grew and grew
It wrapped itself around my heart
And squeezed it black and blue
So in search of a solution
I turned feeling into rhyme
And wrote for you a thousand words
Because you can’t be mine
Even though the strength of feeling
Maybe for Angels to compare
It’s clear the inspiration comes
From one for whom I care
And though I thought that by this method
I might put you back in place
I find I’ve just intensified
The feeling for your face

So now I’m finally standing here
Unsure quite what to do
With nothing I can give, My Love
Except my love for you.

And sometimes it happens
That it wells up
A lump in the throat
Something deserving of more than tears
But so suppressed by well-meaning logic
Hidden by a dramatic mask, too well worn
of its true shape, sharp edges removed.

A vectorless emotion
Stuck in a maze made with walls of reason
The unreasonable contained
Rebellious without a cause

Yet so susceptible to a simple kindness
That puts all at risk of disastrous desire, calamitous confusion
Demanding release.
So, those poetic parents; Darkness and Light
In a tryst at their boundaries, defuse the danger
And make, in quiet conception,
Amongst the gentler shadows of the soul
What gestates and finally
In a spasm of wordy contractions
Spills live and bloody into the paper world.

It seems today is not quite here
Well it wasn’t when I looked last year!
And if it’s not here you cannot see
How outrageous I can sometimes be

I’ll run naked through the park and city
But to be ignored seems such a pity!
Or kiss that lady on the Tube
Invisibly? – far too subdued
Dance in the street with one I adore?
Damn! – I’ve done that one before

So perhaps I should refrain from play
And look before I leap today!

Cockerel sunshine slips between the curtains
Energising dust to dance in beams
Lifting lethargy as I do the duvet
A good day I think.

Silver field shimmer in the moonlight,
Silver field glow,
Silence, in the face of the lady,
As she bathes the world below.

Cool and Pale, her gift she gives,
Never forced but enraptured,
Serene Siren of all with a heart,
Grasped at, but never captured.

With outlandish bravado
His form of protection
Fifteen years old
Deeply scared of rejection
He’d tried to deny her
He’d tried to ignore
But she'd entangled his heart
Like no girl had before
So he bought her a red rose
And dark chocolates beside
You may know the ones
With “the secret” inside
He strode to her classroom
All gifts on display
Past open-mouthed mates
Who were speechless that day
Her girlfriends were wide eyed
As he walked to her desk
She looked up with those eyes
That put courage to test
“These are for you”
Quite certain he’d die
But her smile lit up
And she started to cry
A hubbub ensued
And he said they’d talk later
With every intention
Of asking to date her
And they did talk
Many more times
As to what happened next?

Well that’s not for this rhyme.

I sometimes have too much to think
Mind liquidised by the blades of conflicting aims
A maelstrom of ideas, words and feelings,
Whipping up a sea boiled by emotional gales.

The fine cutter of thought, though elegant
Is tossed like a cork, compass spinning
And can only weather such a storm
Sails in tatters, with I strapped to her main mast.
Only a vessel with the assured tonnage of true purpose can make headway here,
And that, a rare ship in my oceans,
So take me in tow,
To a safe berth,
Where this cutter might wait out the tumult
And, unfurling new sails, take once more to calmer seas.

What if the stars went round the earth
What if the day were night
And cows could fly and trees could cry
Would that resolve my plight?

And if the world were back to front
If the hands on clocks swept back
And the land would wash upon the sea
Our yellow sun turn black.

If all our children went to work
And the parents went to school
Then effect would have predestined cause
That would make fate a fool.

And if age reduced with passing years
And if dying started life
Then perhaps this nonsense that I feel
Would turn out to be right.

Tracheotomy!
Now there’s a good word
Though its medical meaning
May be far from absurd
What I like’s the phonics
Harsh and then round
And the fact that the spelling
Is not quite as it sounds
Then comes an image of trains speeding down rails
Puffing and blowing
In brimstone rich hail
Or adding the ending
Perhaps a train full of soldiers
From the Somme or from Ypres
All packed shoulder to shoulder
Passing the Woodbines
Some chatting, some leaning
Ironically smoking
Inside this words meaning
So all words have a life
Those wheels within wheels
And the poet just tries
To determine what’s real.

Little was said
Yet both of us knew
As the hands on my watch so treacherous flew
Leaping too gleeful between stolen glances
Obscene in their haste
Making light of our chances
Still the word would not come
How could that be so?
When it seems twixt our meetings
Whole worlds come and go.


Ten lifetimes could never do justice to you
Yet scant moments are all I can treasure as true
When my hand touched yours
Then all earth stood still
With a jolt of raw power
A tectonic thrill
As if Physics had said,
“This time is theirs”
“Forget for one moment responsible cares”
But too soon did the sun race low in the sky
Our own thief of time that demanded “Goodbye”
So with fortitudinous smiles we both did depart

And that word left unsaid
Still sits deep in my heart.

Avoiding words
Embracing feeling
One particular way
To precipitate healing

Life’s a bitch, you must surely agree,
There are so many reasons that show this to me,
For instance, I just get the hang of the words to a song,
Then I find out the words I’ve been singing are wrong.

And why when out to dinner to impress a young lady,
Does my sleeve end up doing the “crawl” in the gravy?
Or sat at the bar; comes the moment to kiss,
Do I lean forward coolly and utterly miss?
Toppling face first from that three legged stool,
As I grin up inanely from a best bitter pool.

I remember my sports car, fast and blue,
With the wind in my hair, she really flew,
Strong and good looking, and to my touch, compliant,
(Though I did once get “burnt off” by a Robin Reliant.)
But “No” I digress, the story to tell,
Is the first time I took out a young girl called Michelle,
She had a nice smile; I thought she was great,
I walked her from her door, and held open the gate,
We got in the car, and made ready to go,
For a meal for two in a candlelit glow,
I turned the ignition and clickety click,
Nice time to choose for the starter to stick,
Under the car with a spanner and torch,
Whilst Michelle spent the evening sat on her porch.

And when I got married,
Thought thank God that’s all over,
Now for a life of roses and clover,
Ha, Ha - not on your life, not on your nelly,
Not like it is when they do it on telly,

I mean, when they’re in bed and they fancy a nibble,
You don’t see them smile and then start to dribble,
So your lover has hysterics, fit to bust,
Which doesn’t do much for the organ of lust!
And in romantic movies - where are the tissues?
You see, for me, these just aren’t small issues.

So one thing I’ve learned and drawn a conclusion,
Is that life being perfect is just an illusion,
And it’s best not to worry about small imperfection,
For deep down philosophy’s just pure conjection,
So a far better line to put an end to this fable,
Is “Just laugh and just love as much as you’re able”.