One sunny springtime morning
I met her on a fair day.
I saw her from a distance
Out strolling on the fairway.

As like the springtime morning
She filled the air with joy...
She was a rose of England
And I a blacksmith's boy.

I heard that she was singing
As I maundered ever near;
The sweetest, charming plainsong
Sent softly to my ear.

As like the springtime morning
She filled the air with joy...
She was a rose of England
And I a blacksmith's boy.

She had the rarest countenance,
She had the fairest flowing hair;
She looked the grandest lady,
Ethereal beyond compare.

As like the springtime morning
She filled the air with joy...
She was a rose of England
And I a blacksmith's boy.

She was a rose of this fair land,
The flower of Saint George,
But I my master's vassal,
A servant of the forge.

So, like the springtime morning
She filled my heart with joy...
She, a rose of England
Whilst I, a blacksmith's boy.

Who is this muse before me stood?
I know her not, I say.
A temperate stirring of the blood,
I bid her go away.
Her seducing, warm, pacific smile,
The shining in her eye;
I watch her handsome form a while
And yet, her I deny.

I took, once more, a further glance
Affirming what I thought.
A glowing, flowing, countenance
Upon mine eyes here brought.
I bid her go, a second time,
Yet, still, she must remain
Sparkling in the morning rime
Be gone, I say, again.

I close my eyes and hope to see
Her off before I wake.
An angel come to beckon me
And for my soul to take.
My eyes are opened, looking on,
Aroused from my repose ~
I'd surely bid her thrice be gone
Afore the cockerel crows.

I weep for trees and forests,
We laid them all to waste.
Will children have no air to breath,
No atmosphere to taste?

I weep for mighty oceans
We trashed them to the brim.
Will children of the life therein
Protract no place to swim?

I weep for northern icelands,
A thawing polar crown.
Will children of the Inuit
Become condemned to drown?

I weep for fields and meadows,
Poisoned long ago.
Will children of the landscape
Reap no seeds to sow?

I weep for man's futurity
Ere I take my sleep.
Will children of the morrow
Beget no tears to weep?

ASJ

The window that I peer through
At summer's break of day;
Way out, afar, and near to
I see the dawn of May.
Through the age-old pane of glass,
A masterpiece for sure,
A portrait of a different class ~
A painted Yorkshire moor.

The sun alights the heather
Though not yet coloured mauve.
The season's fur and feather
Create a treasure trove.
The image through my window square,
Just as the sunlight, that day, came ~
A pictured landscape bordered there
Inside my cottage window frame.

The doorway that I step through,
The threshold to a dream;
When the daylight starts anew
An Eden, it would seem.
So, when the squeaky handle turns
And creaking hinges swing,
The lark out in the meadow yearns
To, oh so sweetly, sing.

But evening comes for certain ~
I latch and bolt the door;
And tug and draw my curtain
When daylight is no more.
Then when I close my eyes asleep
The draughty night is born,
My window and my door will keep
Me snuggled till the morn.

Amongst the quiet of our moorland peace,
In the misty still softness, therein found;
There is, over eeriness, heard a sound,  
A feint cantata of sonant release.
No lamb of god draped in her woollen fleece,
No canine whimper of a monster hound;
Nor subterranean creature underground
But a haunting luring, that fails to cease.

A moorland siren so sweetly voicing,
Singing, heavenly ~ outright, loud and clear
Filling daytime waves with a tender song.
Of sweet resonance, wide and rejoicing,
Floating gracefully in the wind out here.
So content, leave me placed where I belong.

The hand that inks the essay,
The words of wisdom all that lay
Upon the page to rage and say
The things that bring such joy to me.

The eye that seeks and finds a way
To sob the story, come what may,
As thoughts and themes run wild, astray!
This eye will try to always see.

The heart that beats without delay
And rhymes the lines that dance and sway
And bound and sound as blithely they
Never, ever, silent be.

The mind that minds his words today
And savours them, for e'er to stay
Within his soul, then he may pray
His mind will see ~ mere words are we.

I am reckless, you are wise
I am feckless, you advise -
Tell me all you will...
Show me all your skill.

I am foolish, you are gifted
I am mulish, you're unscripted -
Tell me where I'm wrong...
Show me I belong.

I am worthless, you are rich
I am mirthless, you bewitch -
Tell me all you know...
Show me where to go.

I'm pragmatic, you are wary
I am static, you can vary -
Tell me your mind...
Show me your kind.

I am plain, you are sculptured
I'm arcane, you are cultured -
Tell me of your faith...
Show me your wraith.

I'm astray, you are found
I'm midway, you're profound -
So, tell me what to say...
So, show me the way.

Where have all the raindrops gone
Spilling from on high?
Which once would fall about my head
But now my head is dry.
Where have all the snowflakes gone
Ambling down from space?
Shivering in the winter wild
And melting on my face.

Where have all the rivers gone
Dashing to and fro?
They once would splash across the land
As seaward they would go.
Where have all the oceans gone
To crash against the shore?
All that's left is salted sand
Upon a seabed floor.

Where have all the rainbows gone?
They lighted up the days.
They once would bow and bend and reach
So far, the eye could gaze.
Where have all the sundrops gone
To energise the rain?
Absent now, without a trace,
And never seen again.

And where have all my brothers gone?
Each walked the earth with me;
O'er moor and mountain, here and there,
From clifftop to the sea.
And where have all my sisters gone
And all the loves I've known?
Disappeared, just like the rain,
So, now I'm left alone.

                                ASJ

I gazed down from the water's side
To see a silver gleam
And standing staring looked and tried
To see beyond the stream.
The clearest water sparkling, pure,
Below me stilled and calm;
Its cooling, soothing, fooling lure,
Seductive in its charm.

I saw a young man peering on
With eyes that conquered all.
But in a moment, he was gone ~
Uncanny, I recall.
Beneath the surface he was there,
A soul of twenty-four,
Then vanished in the swell somewhere
And left me by the shore.

Again, he came when it was staid
And braved another glance.
Yet, had I his acquaintance made
Some long by-go, by chance?
He spoke and told me in a rhyme
He yearned that he was me;
Though musing swept me back in time ~
I longed that I was he.

                                           ASJ

The night was red as from my bed
I tumbled to the sky.
The breeze was blue as I heard you
Around the garden fly.
The day was black as I stepped back
And felt a gum tree grow.
The rain dripped dry as only I
Would see a rooster crow.

I found my hat and stroked my cat
And led my sows to market.
I saw you say my snout was grey
So steered my car to park it.
I had to flee to Southend Sea
To drop of in the sands.
I went to view the voice of you,
I walked there on my hands.

I robbed a song of two words long
But coughed ~ it didn't rhyme.
Blame begged my heart to stop and start
For beating out of date.
You sailed about the room to shout
And say less, all the more.
From then you came to scream your name,
You entered by the fire.

So as the day was turned to clay
I scrambled through the wall.
I dug a hill for Jack and Jill
And watched them upwards fall.
From deep within a box of gin
I spent an inch or so
I chanced a bite and thought I might
Smoke whiskey through a straw.

And as the time was now sublime
The postman called and bowed.
I washed my words and watched small birds
Pitch snowballs at a cloud.
So back in bed to nest my head
In time to bake a cake.
I fell onto a dullness new,
There slumbered sound awake.

ASJ

And so, the day in earnest comes,
She slowly starts to grow.
Then the daylight blush appears
And gently starts to show.
Just as the songbirds first awake
To serenade the air...
Digest the moment, listen well
Their voice spills everywhere.

As strands of brilliant light are born
To saturate the ground;
Creatures of the daytime stir
And deftly move around;
Watch them roused (unbeknownst to them)
And see them frisk and quest,
Remember soundly all you see...
Creation at its best.

When flowery blooms have made their debut
Here on nature's stage.
Their heads have lifted from their sleep
To pay you their homage.
Perfumed petals blazing brightly
Giving all they've got;
Note their beauty, air and grace,
Therefore, forget them not.

The mighty army - ancient oaks -
Protect from rain and sun;
Stout and towering overhead
Their defence has now begun.
They creak and groan against the wind
Bending in the breeze...
Retain this aspect in your mind,
The visage of the trees.

In the sunshine you may walk
Beside the one you care for;
(Or talk and listen in the rain)
Embrace this time and therefore...
Applaud this day with all your heart
As daytime glow is cast;
Seize the day - carpe diem -
This day may be your last.

ASJ

The oak and rowan slumber still
Reposing in their frosted bed;
Holding off the shivered chill
Dormant, docile, all but dead.
Skeletons drab against the cloud
Leafless limbs up-reaching high;
Clothed dew, a frozen shroud,
Below them hidden secrets lie.

On the ground the snowdrops burst
Early risers of the year
Contending to be blooming first
A fleetly winter's end is near.
Premature, the sunlight's rays,
Icy stalactites eroding,
Tumbling down a spectral haze
With leafy newborn buds exploding.

A feathered bird-throng fills the skies
With warbled wonder aforetime;
Showing up in sweet surprise
Stepping out before its prime.
And now a season, bright and bold,
Marches on afresh and new
Driving out the drizzled cold
As spring has sprung before her due.

In every life some rain must fall,
Though wherefrom heaven knows.
With passing years, the storm may call,
The tempest comes and goes.
The day could see a cloudburst hail
To soak you through and through
Yet silver raindrops deftly fail
To bathe away the blue.

As thunder quakes the path of life,
Like cannons in the sky.
And lightning, cutting like a knife,
An electric charge on high.
When icy drops sleet all about
And crisis canters near
Then windy blows that scream and shout
Bombard the soul with fear.

So now I'm old, though seldom sad,
I think of days long gone.
I smile about the good and bad
And savour every one.
Although the darkened clouds may drift
And bluster out their rains
I still salute a special gift ~
The sunshine here remains.

ASJ

Here, this day, I up and trek
Aways away from home
Across the lane, beyond the beck
That bubbles through the brome.
Ascending, slipshod, up the hill
Where green is twice as nice
Where here the mood is hushed and still
And air is sweet as spice.

There atop a cloudy peak
All but to the sky;
That's where I asylum seek
(Or the least I try).
There where flowing rills below
Divide the valley floor
And there above ~ since long ago ~
The golden eagles soar.

By myself I halt and rest
(Though I am not alone)
As breezes whisper from the west
And chill me to the bone.
I have no destination sure
I leave my angst elsewhere,
Guided by the tranquil lure
I wander here and there.

ASJ

Whereas the evening filters through
To bring the darkness seeping down.
The daylight's leave now overdue
High above a slumbering town.

To bring the darkness seeping down
As the north wind starts its blowing;
High above the slumbering town
Night time shadows start their showing.

As the north wind starts its blowing
Round and around deserted ways.
Night time shadows start their showing
There under, eerie phantoms gaze.

Round and around deserted ways
Within the blackest, darkest night
There under, eerie phantoms gaze
Misleading by subdued moonlight.

Within the blackest, darkest night
The daylight's leave now overdue;
Misleading by subdued moonlight
Whereas the evening filters through.

The final springing of the year
May well decay, anon, I fear;
The sun could flaunt its dusk, for then,
I've marked my three score years and ten.

The morning's fire has lit my days
And led astray in many ways.
But twilight dun will trespass when
I glean my three score years and ten.

Yet sadness nil will ill my cheer
About the springtide of the year;
And should I pray, as e'er I sleep,
My three score years and ten to keep.

The memories are warm in the eye of the storm
I remember the days long ago.
And the raindrops fall wet as the tears of regret
Dance through the air to and fro...
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.


The colours and shades of the penny arcades
Flash through my mind on a whim.
And the mantra lives on, though the music is gone,
For the furore of then tends to dim.
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.


Was I ever so young when my springtime had sprung?
Was I ever so short in the tooth?
Was I ever so tall ~ or really quite small
In the turbulent days of my youth?
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.


Words fall on deaf ears as the sun disappears
And the twilight now smothers the bright
Do the things that I say become withered away
In the fading and ebb of the light?
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.


So, I lie in my bed with these thoughts in my head
And anamnesis visits my dreams.
I forget how it was long ago then because
Forever they're gone ~ so it seems.
And the nighttime grows cold when the daytime grows old.

The desert wind fares wild and true
O'er a petaled face
Then scurries round with much ado
And roils from place to place.
Here where sunshine bakes the sand
And dries the dusty air
Here where legends roam the land ,
Where mortals would not dare.

A flower rises from the ground
And peers out from her bed.
Bashful, silent, not a sound,
She lifts her new born head.
So, gazing round the dips and dunes
She savours, for a while,
The breeze's repertoire of tunes
That call to cause her smile.

Then with the joy of midday bloom
She, open armed, looks up.
High into the clouded plume
She opens like a cup.
Her colours dazzle desert eyes,
Her perfume scents the day.
Yet closes when the sunlight dies
To sleep the night away.

No longer the leaves show their full summer green,
As this cool autumn day
Takes their own youth away
As it once did with me a long time ago...
As forty short years have now seen
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Green changes to gold, as now it must,
Though more subtle to see
(Floating down from a tree)
As it is with myself, as I know well;
Soon we will both (the leaves and I) turn to dust
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Resplendent leaves no longer steep in the sun;
As I walk down life's lane
With the wind and the rain
I see myself, see what I now am.
I see my own autumn has begun
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Wrinkled, and as delicate and brittle
As the twig and the nut,
As they snap underfoot,
They became so downtrodden
And are now applauded little
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

Then suddenly appears a seasonal breeze;
Where it blows all around
Swirling there on the ground
And the frail, weak leaves are parted...
Stolen from their home in the trees
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)

And as darkness falls o'er the wooded scar
The time is now nigh
For leaves to blow by...
To yield to a greater influence than I
(But are the leaves still beautiful?)
Yes, they are!

His coat has many colours,
Joseph is his name;
Although some call him 'Joey'
It's Joseph just the same.

The collar on his cloak
Is such a vibrant red;
From his shoulders to his pointy chin
It goes right to his head.

The nether of his robe
Has hues of greens and blues
From his chubby, rounded waist
To his rugged grey-black shoes.

His sleeves are speckled yellow,
A dazzling golden shade;
And silver sprays within the fold ~
Delightful how they're made.

Bright scarlet and vermilion
Make threads of coloured joy;
For, Joey is a parrot
And 'e's a pretty boy.

ASJ

Where the ocean meets the sky
Far away, some distant place;
There is where so often I,
That is where I often try,
To seek a mild solace.

Where the ocean joins the cloud
And nothing in between;
There is where I think aloud
Neath the heavens' sheltered shroud
Where nought is ever seen.

Where the ocean finds the sun
There is where it's bright;
Even when the day is done,
When the shining while has run ~
Even when it's night.

Where the ocean gulps the air
And crashing waves are stirred;
There is where, without a care,
Neath the heavens' sultry stare,
Where nought is ever heard.

Where the ocean meets the sky
And where my thoughts unwind;
There is where I ponder why,
Where my true devotions lie ~
Horizons of my mind.

ASJ

A darkened room has no sorrow
No today and no tomorrow;
A darkened room has no sadness
It has no pain, only madness.

A darkened room has no light
Has no moon or starlight bright;
A darkened room has no shine
Has no lustre, yours or mine.

A darkened room has no good
Has no heartbeat, has no blood;
A darkened room has no breath
Has no life but only death.

A darkened room has no style
Has no simper, has no smile;
A darkened room has no grin
Has no easiness within.

A darkened room has no day
Has no notion, has no say;
A darkened room has no eve
Has no reason to believe.

A darkened room has no PC
It has no he or has no she;
A darkened room has no view
Has no me and has no you.

ASJ

The bistred day has  fallen still,
A darkened mead hangs overhead;
The hush within the evening chill
Chants now the yore is gone to bed.
A gently breeze steals from the west
Cool along the shadowed lanes;
The sunburned broil, now at rest,
Its warmth has gone, though still remains.

The cold night air stands all alone
Anon the past is gone to sleep;
Daytime secrets tossed and blown,
The faithful night for ere to keep.
Secrets that the breeze fears speak,
Winnowing in the night-time swell;
Brushing eastward 'gainst your cheek
The whispered wind mayn't kiss-n-tell.

Evensong is served this eve
All around the moonlit shrine;
Absolution cedes when you believe,
The cool night air is sweet as wine.
Drink your fill in solemn thought,
Let your mind escape within;
Cleanse your conscience, ever fraught,
Save your soul! ~ confess your sin!

Here beneath a cloudless sky
You're not alone ~ you seldom are;
Within the dim nocturnals fly
As someone watches from afar.
So, mediate, your faith elate,
Ruminate, and yet beware;
Intoxicate your mindless state,
Drinking in the cool night air.

Were I wise I should o' known
To steer a leery course;
And felt the tumult wind had blown
Its tempest of remorse.
But I was given to the sound
That echoed through my head
And tumbled in there, round and round,
The first sweet words she'd said.

She told me all the world was ours
Until our days may end;
Boundless love that never sours
Nor can the years amend.
She said she ever would be true
And by my side she'd stay
But now her words are scant and few ~
My love has went away.

So, as I drift into the night
And darkness takes its place
My hindsight wishes that I might
Have pondered  (just in case).
I should o' known, oh! were I wise,
With sense that could not see
Wisdom visits in disguise
But seldom visits me.

I wish I was a tin man
Out there cutting wood;
I'd rely upon the **** can
To keep my elbows good.
All day I'd task and toil
Until it's time for tea,
And then I'd take a squirt of oil
To keep my knee joints free.

I'd dream about a girlfriend,
My dreams then turn to dust;
I comprehend at daytime's end
I'm just a heap of rust.
I'll never find a maid of tin,
It's tearing me apart,
As when I search my soul, within,
I find I have no heart.

I wish I was a scarecrow
Out, living in a lea.
But all the critters there, though,
Just jest and laugh at me.
I stand about with outspread arms
Scaring off the birds,
I'm seldom found around the farms...
I'm always lost for words.

I dream about a girl of straw
Lithe enough to squeeze;
My dreams then turn to chaff, and so
They blow off in the breeze.
I'll never get a spouse of hay,
My dreams swill down the drain;
I wouldn't know just what to say
I haven't got a brain.

I wish I was a lion brave,
Roaring mighty roars;
Seeing off my foes to save
The world from mighty wars.
I'd spend my time a-prowling,
Vaunting round with pride,
Snarling and a-growling...
But all I do is hide.

I wish I had a lioness
To hunt and ply for me;
But that will never be, I guess ~
I'm cowardly, you see!
I have no courage for to ask
A feline for a date;
I have no luck - I have no pluck
I'll never find a mate.

So, I wish I was the wizard
To save me from the storm;
My life is such a blizzard,
But who will keep me warm?
I long to be a magic man
The future I'd foresee...
But then again a better plan,
I'd rather just be me.

                                 ASJ

I reflect on what you look like now!
You were beauteous when I saw you last.
What precious gifts did time endow?
All those years of tranquil absence
As you slumbered away the time somehow.

I wonder if your eyes remain bright,
They always looked at me kindly.
I think that, if you're at home tonight,
I could give you a call ~ perhaps...
Or should I just simply write?

I expect that you smile as you always could;
Intriguing, enchanting, and toasty warm.
But you smiled for me today ~ I knew you would
(In any case I've misplaced your number).
I must be more careful ~ I know I should.

Do you think of me, perchance?
When days are long and nights are cold
Bestow on me a passing glance?
Think of times, now far away ~ distant?
A sombre time, a valedictory happenchance.

I should visit but what's to gain?
~ To see, now, how you are?
I could easily even cause you pain.
I would come soon, now! today!
But outside it looks like rain.

                                          ASJ

He lives within his Toytown house
And stays, contented, there;
Happy, silent as a mouse
Dozed in his tortile chair.
Ready and alert is he,
Uncertain what's in store,
Thinking next who it may be
Comes knocking at his door.



Will someone call to visit soon?
Will someone come to play?
Will someone tease and hum a tune
Upon this very day?
All alone he'll sit and mope
The smile washed from his face;
Sadly, tearful in the hope
Some antic should take place.



But wait!   what's this?  a fuss he hears
Along the nursery lane;
He ***** his head and ****** his ears
And harkens it again.
Did he sense a stir, so slight?
Yes!  he's sure he did...
He springs and gives them such a fright
When someone lifts his lid.

Fair maiden how I long to be
Out, this day, a-stroll with thee.
Maiden fair come take my hand,
Walk with me 'bout hallowed land.

Look at me, tell what you spy
As you look me in the eye.
Voice your kind words soft and low,
Gift your ethos as we go.

Fair maid embrace me with your soul,
Hear my quandary, pray console;
Help me in my hour of need
Now mine eyes begin to bleed.

Count my blessings one by one,
Steal my infractions, leave me none;
Lead me on like straying sheep,
Gaze on me, my soul to keep.

Fair maiden guide me on my way,
Show your light at break of day.
Play your music in my ear,
Steer me safely lest I veer.

Cause me heed your ardent power,
Strengthen me this very hour.
Hold me upright as we walk
Reveal your secrets as we talk.

Fair maiden, maiden, all I ask,
Recognise behind my mask.
Know the yearning that I long,
Keep me faithful, keep me strong.

Sit with me in silent pose
Let me observe a fragrant rose.
Bloomed, ablaze neath noon-day sun
Till my tangled web is spun.

Fair maiden listen at day's end,
Lay with me - a special friend.
Let your thoughts flit to and fro,
Kiss my face afore I go.

As darkness chills the evening air
Promise me, oh maiden fair;
Pledge that if we part anon...
That you will love me when I'm gone.

Clouds loom drifting, passing by,
The west wind gently tempts them on
Though no one knows what cause them cry
And no one hears their pleading voice
As all their acid tears well dry.

Snowy white, in rank and file,
The south wind warmly glides them far;
Smiling wryly all the while
Natant high above the earth
Ambling on, mile after mile.

Alluring to the offhand glancer
The east wind briskly chafes them forth
Skittering like the showtime dancer
Yet hidden deep within their breast
A growing rude and covert cancer.

But nature's wrath will bid her toll
The north wind casts the clouds astray
Freezing, breezing, pole to pole,
The stricken, tainted, wisps will wane ~
Dare no one care to save their soul?

So now as time is dwindling low
As the ill winds clime their worst
The poisoned rains, in flooding flow,
**** our land to end mankind ~
And still, the winds shall wanton blow

ASJ

Oh, to be maying this cool sun-snapped day,
Temperately faultless and fair.
Oh, to be roaming, this rare day in May ~
Oh, how I wish you were there.

Oh, to be with you as spring bids its bye
And as summer is saluted, yet still...
Oh, you were with me as often I try
To think of you out on the hill.

I remember you with me, faithful and true,
Oh you, how loyal and sound;
Alert when I whistled and ever I knew
Oh you, a prince of a hound.

Oh, to be maying as memories awaken ~
But do I feel rain in the sky?
Not so, this May day, I must be mistaken;
Oh, 'tis the tear in my eye.

ASJ

The hour boldly strikes midnight inside my head.
I have already endured a long and thoughtful day.
I'm courting precious ambitions of sleep and bed
But there remain, still, things for me to do...
So many untitled pages are left unread, unsaid.

It's night-time within and so very dark,
I wonder if I am truly able to see.
But inside my head I detect a forlorn spark;
Distant, sure, but just bright enough ~
It's an uncertain voyage on which my ideations embark.

I see before me another adventurous day looming.
Awaiting the daylight which is no longer here.
I think of my existence, my thoughts consuming
And devouring these ideas until it has nourished it's fill.
Clouds of conceptions, or misconceptions, are forever pluming.

As I live and breathe in order to stagger along
I stumble blindly through this darkness of mine.
I have grown week now but my mind stays strong.
I am conscious of all the tasks I must perform
And place things in the order in which they belong.

I longingly look forward to the morning's golden thread.
Birds will sing sweetly and the sun will illuminate me.
All my words are covered over with blue and red
But tomorrow a new day is born and I will remember them
Though, for now ~ maybe forever ~ it's still midnight inside my head.

The spongy earth springs underfoot
Concealing all below;
You mind your way,
This eerie day,
You're careful how you go.

As mists roll off the craggy moss
Concealing all above;
You find your way,
This eerie day,
About a place you love.

A speck of rain anoints your head
Concealing thoughts inside;
You see your way,
This eerie day,
To let your qualms, subside.

The heather forms a carpet here
Concealing peril's traits;
You pick your way,
This eerie day,
Where a quaggy snare awaits.

The day is cool, the wind is sharp
Concealing mortal sound;
You hear your way,
This eerie day,
Ear firmly to the ground.

Envisage ghosts of people past
Concealing souls admired;
You wend your way,
This eerie day,
Where Brontë's were inspired.

But you are where you need to be
Concealing troth secure;
You hide away,
This eerie day,
In the solace of the moor.

ASJ

Well I recall, when I was young,
(Much younger than I am today).
My life, thus far, remained unsung...
When all I did was sleep and play.
I saw a horse, afore me stood,
Coat of chestnut, mane of black;
Most dazzling sight of my childhood
With lustrous seat and shining tack.


Slender legs, so firm and strong,
Bearing his great body, lean;
Flowing tail so bristly long,
The very finest ever seen.
Bought for me that summer morn
Through my parents grace;
My like for horses then was born...
A lifelong fondness to embrace.


I looked way up to see this sight
Towering high above my head.
Standing gracefully aright
A proudly handsome thoroughbred.
Dare I mount him, dare I ride?
Would he take to me?
Could I seat myself astride?
Or would he firmly disagree?


I plucked up all my infant daring
Placing my left foot
In the stirrup he was wearing
An oh so tiny shoe I put.
I climbed into the leather saddle
(Assisted by my dad)
I placed my minute legs astraddle...
And rocked and rocked and rocked like mad.

A gentle hand upon my skin
To balm my sleeping soul within
A fragile brushing 'gainst my face
Adorns my soul with air and grace.
The kindest, mildest, tender touch
Subdues my soul to mind too much
The quaver of my joyful heart
As all my anguish blows apart.
And in the fluent light of morn
A freshness in my soul, reborn,
Where thoughts bygone, should I partake,
May kiss my brow as I awake.

The coldest, forceful wind may blow;
The sun may, sometimes, golden glow;
The rain may, often, showery show;
The sky may dust the land with snow.

When it blows my hat is tied;
In the heat,  'neath shade I hide;
I shy from rain until it's dried;
And as it snows, I stay inside.

I don't mind a raucous gale
Or the sunburn in the vale
And nor the damp as raindrops sail
I love the biting snowflake hail.

A gust may roar throughout the night
But by the day the sun may bright;
A storm may rage with all its might ~
The winter snowfall purest white.

Come what may my senses see
All that nature gifts to me.
Fair or foul, wild and free,
That's the way it's meant to be.

                                     ASJ

I am not now the one I used to be.
Time has changed me, as to everyone it does;
I am a divergent wight now, as you see,
My soul has become so much more infinite
And so, with contrasting ideas I now agree.

That one I used to be I am not still.
I am no wiser despite the fleeting years;
Though I exist in the hope that until
(Or that time comes when I am able)
All my aspirations I may yet fulfil.

There was a time when I saw things very clear
Though that is not exactly so today.
There was a time when I held things very dear
But now I am older, I admit my concerns ~
Though when I was young, I harboured no fear.

I now view friends in a different way;
Without them what would a person's existence be?
Without them what would be left to say?
Even if, at times, you disagree with a friend
You keep them close as your allies for another day.

So, the one I was I no longer am,
Although my own god has survived intact.
Other mortals' idols I no longer **** ~
As each and every one of us has his own convictions...
Non sum qualis eram

ASJ

I had so much to tell you
A while ago away;
And, although our tidings few,
There seemed so much to say.
When you were old ~ whilst I was young,
I might have listened when
A weave of words, together strung,
Were tendered now and then.


But note!  the hour has wandered late
And dulls the muse of mind;
Time and tide for no man wait ~
Ago remains behind.
So, words unspoken, not to know,
Are words that time forgot,
They mattered to me then, ago,
But now they matter not.

ASJ

Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment
Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.



Tis here that I met you on a pleasing summer morn
Where blossoms of the cherry, out on the bough, adorn;
Underneath the cherry tree euphoria welled soon,
I met you in the morning, I loved you by the noon.


You were more the things to me that I should ever know
And there beneath the cherry tree, neath the scented show,
We watched the sun rise in the sky and felt our hearts entwine
And all the world was lost to me just as your eyes kissed mine.


We loved throughout that summer time down in the cherry glade;
The warmest days that I had known that God has ever made.
And from an overflowing cup of mirth where I may drink
Beneath the blooming cherry tree, beneath the perfumed pink.


But as the autumn chill appeared and cooled the air around
The leaves upon the cherry tree were tumbled to the ground.
Then so the dusk of time came by, the evening of the day,
And in the darkness of the night my love had gone away.


Yet still the joy of love is mine, though but a moment long,
The memory of those blissful days shall always here belong.
And I shall sacrifice the peace I ever knew before ~
The pain of love remains with me for now and evermore.


Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment
Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie.

Watch it haste and watch it fly,
Why try espy it flashing by?
Now you see it, now you don't,
Then you heard it ~ now you won't.

First it's here and then it's gone,
It's much the same for everyone.
Like a cloud high in the air
Glance once more and it's not there.

Like a bubble drifting past,
Though you know it cannot last.
A tranquil breeze, the bubble stops ~
Attempt to touch! the bubble pops.

Where it stems from no one knows;
No one sees to where it goes.
You know it's there but you can't find...
As not a trace it leaves behind.

Man can't beat this mighty force,
To try and try he'll fail, of course;
He'll never grasp the wheres and whys
Quam tempus fugit ~ how time flies.

                       ASJ

If grandad really loved me...
(he told me so, he said)
He recited scary stories
As I lay in my bed.

He lit the fire that warmed me
And kept it burning bright,
He gave me cheer throughout the day
And comfort through the night.

He shared my weekend tea with me,
We two a jolly team;
Pouring out the ginger beer
And serving cakes and cream.

His cleverness he lent to me
And showed me what to do
He taught me how to spell my name
Keep my own council too.

But granddad never told me,
And I could ne'er perceive;
If grandad really loved me so
Why, then, did he leave?

                              ASJ

You are alike to a fine paper rose
Perfectly crafted, scarlet and snow white.
Within your eyes the paper rosebud grows
Sanguine and bright, the most beauteous sight.

A petal of white ~ A petal of red
Blend into pink as they shamelessly blush.
Colours of you, how they go to my head,
Remind me of summer, sun kissed and lush.

My paper rose crinkles, held in my palm;
So softly, gently the sound greets my ears.
Retarding my heartbeat ~ tranquilly calm,
As soft as raindrops ~ god's heavenly tears.

Flower of nature must die heretofore
Flower of paper may live evermore.

(A Sonnet)


Snug in the corner I saw the lad lie,
Fire in his belly, a cork in his eye;
And wordlessly sleeping, a-snooze in his bed,
His words, when awakened, go straight to your head.


Alluring to look at, golden is he,
There when you need him as sure as can be;
And anxious to aid you, he doesn't think twice,
The cost of his concert, your soul is the price.


Then tell him to go now, bid him goodbye;
Allow him to slumber, let sleeping dogs lie!
Tell him his concord you are shooing away,
The lad with the nostrum may no longer stay.


Well! time he was leaving so, show him the door!
A flagon of whiskey a-smash on the floor.

She speaks of skirts and dresses
And outings by the sea;
She speaks of curls and tresses
And ribbons flowing free.
She speaks of her successes
And all that she could be;
She speaks of nonthelesses
But never speaks of me.

She looks at morning's start of day
And colours in the sky.
She sees the flowers by the way
And graceful birds that fly.
She watches children gay at play,
Amid the hue and cry;
She looks at breezy trees that sway
But never looks at I.

She thinks of odes of poets told
And relishes with glee;
Tales and yarns of sagas old
As classic scripts decree.
She ponders oft of heroes bold,
In awe of them is she;
She thinks of wonders to behold
But never thinks of me.
  
ASJ

You may grieve on this darkest of days.
You may weep tears of demulcent dew
And ponder the wonder of God's cruelest ways
Though ne'er understand their reason or rhyme,
Nor unravel the ruse that he ruthlessly plays.

Alone in your anguish, your tempest and rain,
Far from the sunshine high summer once brought.
Forlorn in the torture of sadness and pain
Where lightness and brightness have now disappeared,
Bereft in the wilderness ~ alone once again.

Below the clouds drifting blackened and lost
The soul becomes naked, banished and ******,
Mere thoughts become worthless, tumbled and tossed,
And all is now nought in a world void of care,
The price you must pay now ~ the grief is the cost.

And though in the ending, when all has been said,
Nil desperandum, as faith shall go on.
And then all the reading has rudely been read,
And all the misleading has surmounted instead,
Yet when all the bleeding has bravely been bled,
Don't grieve for too long or you'll waken the dead.

If I could take my time again
A different thing I'd do;
I'd take the comfort, leave the pain,
I'd take the sunshine, leave the rain,
If only I could start anew.

If I could be another's son
A different path I'd choose;
I'd walk along, I wouldn't run,
I'd leave the sorrow, take the fun,
If only I could re-infuse.

If I could start another hour
A different way I'd go;
I'd take the sweetness, leave the sour,
I'd take the jolly, leave the dour,
If only I could make it so.

If I could live another day
I'd tread a different way;
I'd leave the turmoil, take the calm,
And leave the coarseness, take the charm,
If I could take my time again...
I'd take the sunshine, leave the rain.

ASJ