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Daybreak on the River

Daybreak rippled sounds
And silver morning flow,
Cool the ire of the beaten night.
Such beautiful disturbance,
A surface shimmer gleam.
The river greets the end of the greylight
And passes by colour streaked,
Endless and resurgent,
Under the firmament aglow.

An eventual sun
That breaks the horizon,
With teasing rays.
The best of times,
The dawn of days.
And let the water breath
Kiss the sallow mists.
A final caress.
Vanquished to daylight.

Whispering willows talk,
Shadow borne on dappled waters,
Bank bowed swaying dance.
Weep willow, weep now,
For the day has begun.
Joy sapped, seeping
From trunk and branch.
Where the breeze wakes
To stir the nest dwellers.

Safe haven for birdsong
That is carried
Upon each gentling ripple.
A new day! they sing
And the river ripples its applause
In the first swish of fishtail
And dragonfly sorties.
Oh glorious dawn,
The day begins!
Written as the sun rose over the River Avon, UK, in complete stillness and peace.
Drifting Among Strangers

There is silence in the crowd.
The hubbub quelled
And a stillness found.

There is peace in the thousand eyes.
And gentleness upon the lips
That freeze frame smiles in passing.

There is calm in the togetherness.
Where heartbeats pulse and life flows
A oneness in our presence.

There is acceptance and belonging.
Yet identity remains a secret,
Forever unknown, but acknowledged, welcomed.

There are no words, nothing.
And the silence is an idyll
As we drift among strangers.
What bliss to drift among strangers. A desired anonymity, but your presence welcomed. An acceptance unchallenged.
Hope's Shore

Hope deserted me on a distant shore
Tide weary, pebble strewn and waves implored,
Do not stand upon this cold listless beach,
Watching each breaking crest, fall out of reach.
The seabirds will mock and caw in disdain
As they spy tears that mix with spray and rain.
And winds begin to sound their mournful wail
While the clouds spit and sting with raging hail.
Face the sea, shingle groans and constant sighs
Where the bitter bones, frozen marrow lie.
And walk away from the advancing tide
Head hung sullen low and with dented pride.
For hope was never cast away to sea
Hope remained landbound contained within me.
I turn away from wave, wind and sorrow
Face the storm, 'til a better tomorrow.
In times of grief, there is always hope, there has to be.

Written in a quiet moment of reflection, thinking of my daughter Milla who passed away aged 10, in December 2016.

— The End —