Your ribald sword fades
from view
All that was strong hangs by a thread
My poetry lives just to please you
My song to start the day

My thoughts fjords your armoury
Your eyes are like oceans
My life proceeds your being
Surrender to the wilderness

I am planting myself
between eternal hope
and eventual discord

Just some grey occurrence
reflecting the rue of life

The middle way between
the light of day
and the shimmering night.

What a query we have in the night
Its illuminated stare
leaves us more uncertain
The silence of a million stars pervades

Like a finger dail.
The wall is shallow.
Can't find the other side
Like a passing eagle,
of childhood fantasy.

Thoughts concealed.
Head in the clouds.
Now I'm whispering.
Winter is blue.
The sap is leaning.

Dance again
Enjoin your red lips to mine
You're cooler than a glass of water

Now the moon is ready
The unpainted green pains me
all alone
On borrowed clouds
Can't reach you but I try

I am touch.
A rinse of saffron rice.
parable on a summers day.
A green leaf waiting to wilt.

I am journey.
From the depths of the oceans.
To rim of the bay.

The gentle blow of the wind,
that picks up the aroma of your winter wine.

Fortitude  for our heroes
Take them closer to the heart
They are as curious as a curate's egg.
To suffice the occasion
we exchanged a greeting,

Blushed from smiling,
our ears tuned into
eine kleine Nachtmuzik,
to prolong the duration
The morning piano enlivened
our souls.

High in the sky.
London chimes.
Postcode lottery
Knife crime assures.
Still the Eagle soars,
over Streets with no names
Combustible cladding awaiting.

Hose pipe bans beckons.
A capricious late summer.
Rosemary twigs for sale.
See the gypsies staid,
against the Victoria tube exit.