Your white petals glances
deep into  the dark
My raision d'etre being a blackbird
thrusting itself figuratively into the nightly gales

Bracken, aspirant launching
itself against the backdrop
and the gentle rain spilling
neath its hover

In the dawn of the cornflower
opaque morning
I hunger for peace
By the Marigolds
I held a requiem for the lost souls
Whilst the church bells rings
beneath its grille of tumbledown ivy

I hear her purr
like a Venetian  canopy
Back to Back, I seek her advice
and she is the cat they
pulled from the sack
Quite undeserving!

Darkness will not separate us
We Clover in truths
curled and nodding

Hope-filled the vacuum
like an ornate snake
It bedraggled in its canopy
An insurgent Sun appeared
breaking the cold of the morning

The Horizon rang fitted and disparate
Then the cold elbow of twilight appeared
Hard and Dusky grey
like a thief's  errand

Dearth of  Budliah
the opacity of death
The Roses flattened
like a calf awaiting slaughter
a mist drugs Winter's Mirth

You need a bone meal to furnish the soil
to amend the trellised Wisteria
and let the Magpie roam around
the worms with their natural habitation
These gifts quilting in their inner abundance

Gray birds grace us
Tallow was the sky
The sterility of the day
like an ox fat sacrifice
will save the world from sin
and all this obsession to save the heart
The gift of an incandescent rage
born out of the preciousness of redemption

Sometimes I feel like a mauve germanium
reaching for the stars
Tried hard to be pliable
Give me your all
and I show where I'm sitting

The Sun shone at the Moon
Don't worry about me
I've got all I need
the raddest sketchbook
to colour you in
just as before

I've been loved
I've been tamed
but it looks like
the bullfrog has won.
I've been suprised
long time coming

In a church in a village
I feel sad that Rose
has cried for the whole world.
I'm a tent
large enough to spirit you away

I have flown the tallest hill
and it mends my heart
Understanding why
What have I to prove ?
Perhaps I'm a jackdaw in disguise

Walking on rainy days
There's always another time and place
Come that Blue Monday russet feeling
There's so much finite dreams
They just reinforce
the laughing tin  down the road

Semblances have fought their war
and won.
I'm mighty flattered you follow me
Twilight silhouette
Blackbird gaze
one last fish in the pool

Bandages worn
Surrender soon
A riposte again
Old Soldiers die
in a must deciduous fashion

We will watch the saffron  by moonlight
and think of our dearly departed cat
as we stroll the lane
Each morning a daffodil
in God's sunny country
Proclaiming the poetry
of our feelings longevity.

Brick by Brick
they are taking apart the town,
in their own image
Effortlessly
actioning and conspiring
every speck of green
is their hallowed ground
to lay down the foundations.

Come to Croydon
It's like a ship going down
Some have found their new Nova
a cash cow made of stone

Harlequins have fated feelings
on the trapped excess of desire
fire the shot!
to wing a pray
and asunder to Caesar his scarlet remnants
Words on the scale!
Past King's emblems
shimmer way past
and  the subterfuge of romance
learns the price of nails
Judgment smeared by decree
a child's mystifyingly  cries

In the stillness of Winter
I do not know what I wait for
The bigger the less fallible
I'm a big fish in the pool
Quashing all  hatchling in its way
ensuring there is no overflow
withstanding the colored rain and neige
The larger ones will inherit the world
as they meander down the riverbank

A promise of old friends
that never materialized
And the man slides backward
Beyond the broken  promises
no inner light in his horizon
He was a stranger in their eyes
as the rain kept rolling over
as your childhood dreams
were taking away
you cannot buy friends

In Galleys on the ocean
fabled times their voyage
A King's ransom
in search of Gold
Two women weep
for lost loves
On the Sunken coast
they **** and plunder
World in the scales
Bishops sit in judgment
Ash and Sand
The Poseidon rears
it's head

Sometimes I go to Bexhill
on an Ironhorse
and visit Cooden Beach
with the occasioned tar in the sand
I recall the De La Warr Pavillion
Thought I was smart, smart not going

Train rides from Eastbourne
I Look for shipwrecks and Amaryllis's
Every day is a beckoning one
the one that got away
in deep water

If you hear what I'm  thinking
is it time to go ?
Timed out of dreams
a recurring night
Pourquoi in a most extraordinary way

Waiting for an answer
I knew of his ruggered handsomeness
I am the epitaphic thief of time
His painted smile beckoned me
I could walk back to my home

Several shades of dreams
A morning without sound
Rains when I'm not listening
I loved him in the morning
I followed his prays
on a distant road
where sands amass
he gave his poems on driftwood
I loved a man in a marketplace
but now he's  gone
under the tutelage of light

A miniaturized Panzer unit has just
terrorized my lawn
The Parrot has escaped
and the cat ominously reappears
I have introduced two holidaying friends together
I need a better day
"Off with the old, on with the new"
Should I actualize with a change
so I can tend my Mulberry Bush
I wink decidedly

I dragged the sleep from my eyes
and half let the spirit of the Lunar God prevail
Yet we are too grown to believe in the unfathomable
of crumpled carnations and starched liked motions

The feted lover's recompense is almost due
The next time it may snow
with my cardboard suitcase
of self-willed bluster

The flowers were  Dutch pedigree
Narcissus Blue for late Winter

The Queen of contestation
gadfly cries alone in the kitchen

A Silhouette glances at the ravenous trees
as love becomes a specialization
its words tickling the soul

Blue and green, its skeletal throw over
shrouds Spring

The Wisteria is gently trellised up my aging Robina tree
the roots were smitten by Brenda, the previous owner
but at least some shoots survive.
Sir Wrigley has donated me
an orange Lilly although,
he likes to be known as James


A creature has unearthed my succulent cactus
I blame a Badger,
cannot afford to lessen my admiration for urban foxes.
The Lucifer Crocosmia will look abundant in Summer

The Marigolds notwithstanding
a  skull of grass prevails:
Summers nagging scorcher into August

The spent anemones mourn their spring patch
as a light day lingers for its bicycle spokes

As the moon like a visceral womb
carries her well being

I know your routine
The harpy of hazard
The crack of the Sun
and purple pipers
with three ancient lullabies
ply my ear

The arcane breeze
summons the beginning
as the piebald pony
rides the distance
notwithstanding where it's going

Without Cadence and cascades rhythm
Criticizers without a clue
comment on the poet
instead of the poem
But the poet didn't say Pass On

Quagmires where criticizers reside
commenting on the roots
instead of the branch
The White Witch  mischievous by degree
says criticize the poem, not the poet
but by imagery, language and
figuration
arent they the same

where do you go to when you're old,
like being at Clacton in November,
the swirl of the waves conjoure Shangri-la.
Quelle surprise.
As the months go by,
the whole lot is thrown to the winds,
lost your allotment!
the young always get what they want,
but never appreciate  the waiting game
nor can you count on health every day,
just like your Lazarus cat for a nifty vets fee.

Its almost December
and we're old friends
I should see more of you.
You've still to play your favorite song
These problems are not insurmountable

They've closed the down the town
Rows of shops shuttered
It feels like a war zone

If it never rains it pours
The Market isn't the same
and the footfall isn't immense

But if it snows
I meet you on a snow-covered street
and you'd wave a smile
in your Chinese hat and gloves
you got from Primark

Northern boys are strong and tender
By the campsite they regale stories
of their forebearers hunting Caribou and Reindeer
Adroit with knifes
high raised
I love you
A clover for a bed what a Quelle surprise
telling you their secrets
as vert as the hills
and marigold as the future

Nothing going
you never give me your patience
only a situation
Do you know what's it like
to hear your mantras
You're impossible to know
Elephantine and restlessness combined
Corporation t-shirt
you untangle your alliances
showing no imagination

Southern boys speak loftily
in the winter they keep you warm
in their log cabins
In Spring they don't mind the climes
They are reborn,
showing photographs of the farmstead

A wooing softness becomes them
Southern boys
have plenty of feelings
their aim is good                  
Recouping the truth
Butter melts in their mouth

childlike we try to understand
the seventies
had my first girlfriend at 10
Strong Summer blaze of 76
bleaches away then sin,
although underage I watched ****
with my kid sister,
and bought strong Woodbines cigarettes for a shilling,
and heard the banter of Roberts
with his strong retelling of adult-themed books.

Glos cheese is so mild and true
like fall at 16 centigrade
It's mellow like a church calling
reliable as the day is long.
It comes yodling down the hay wain
It's slightly nutty in a good way.
It lays prostrate on an orbital path
and welcomes strangers.

It seizes the day
and comes office suited
like a coach and her price pupil
Nutrolling you along a righteous path
Brandishing away nettles and brambles
to lay a common purpose
like a prayer book

It's difficult being someone
It's hard sleeping
and understanding your dreams
Once I was a contender
presiding over an imaginary foe
I will smile when I find someone
it's almost time I kissed you

You're a southern guy
you've got a heart of gold
and all you got from me
was a tapered window
to espy
Lets try and see the day as a myriad creation

it's that retired boarding school feeling
(although manners still make the man),
forgoing the prestige of privilege
except I left it when I was 11,
there's was no eleven plus taken,
no corrective carpe diem moment gainned,
just your direct entry secondary modern
a  carpet of the day job lot
like bottled water expired.
.

Southern Men speak husky,
in the winter they keep you warm,
in their log cabins.
In Spring they don't mind the climes
They are reborn,
showing photographs of the farmstead

A wooing softness becomes them
Southern Men
have plenty of feelings
their aim is good
Butter wouldnt melt in their mouths
Recouping the erstwhile truth
from noble kisses.

A cigarette
and a meandering dream,
with a morning smile,
and the day ahead was beguiling
like a keen summer swimmer struggling at sea.
He tried best
to tempest the harbinger

laughing at the child within;
the stranger in other's eyes,
and ash cloth for a coat.
He knew he was not safe
from the laughter of others.

April showers, fandango,
get a hold of your handle.
But she's got a hole in her soul
she's one of the night people!
the gypsy women said
which is upsetting her,
keep abreast of her darkly days,
lonely singing out of tune.
The whole thing is bringing her down.

When I look out of my window
(I see a sorry cat)
and I know Ive been heard
its verdant outside
flanked by the Sun
The urge to do good is overwhelming
I postulate who needs help?
(circles in the sand)
The liberation of dreams
brings you back

In the morning,
when you awake
wiping the sleep from your eyes
What do you think I see ?
A Myriad of problems forecast,
casting the eye of wariness
Would you rather base
your life on someone's else success?

You're inseparable as a Cheshire cat
that's graced us with her company !
And it rains and pours,
you stay indoors,
as the ducks find solace
in their new pond.

The Sunny disposition  70s
A head so full of rocks
and assorted ideals
The Bridge of youth were cast

A Ball in the park
history in the making
Smoking tall No 6's in the dark
Bleaching Sun of 1976
coupled with Dutch Elm Disease

Yellow teach yourself Karate
Polaroid's for the wonderment
Austrian Safeway White Wine

Broad enough shoulders to
manage the change
Memories made to last

Shades of Autumn
ply beneath the banquet
of a quilted leaves.

The skewbald sun,
our incandescent champion,
sketches and flows
across the silhouetted bridgehead

She came from the rising  star Jupiter
She lay in fields of marigolds
Seeing the future bright
a rapture of the heart
Her dream was bestrode manifest.
A case of a swan in the sunny climes

Searching for  the woodman
to espier an union
and produce a moon clad offering
to cherish as the dawns break
Jupiter rising

Sometimes I feel like a dusty Chevy
Cotton murmuring days
got us in this mess
We had our sojourn
but these days are gone
The morning bruises normal service,
drains the magic
that should be splendid

Rain and shine
you used to love me
I believed every word
but unknowingest
your cheating heart
had raptures
and little did I know
that you courted
some unlucky lady
using the same open lines
that got me in this mess

You never told me you loved me
The only thing you'd ever wear
is the shinny  wedding ring
- without redress -

I'm left dangling in the rain
Tears are easily in reach
This Sterling Man
and the bitter pill you seemed to take
Love has a recall somewhere
but its not happening to me

Who cares if Bolan misparked his Jeepster
or Bowie had his Norfolk Broads moment
Give me sophisticated mid 70s tin pan alley
rather than Glam
Overnight Sensation by the Raspberries
or January by Pilot
From Glee to a top Three
in one easy swoop

After much thought who cares
if Hendrix kissed the sky
or the madman ran through the fields
I's rather be moving on with Arthur Alexander
with Georgia on my mind
Then I shed a tear that the beat boom
ended the endearing early sixties pop,
where men From Dartford took reworkings of the blues,
refashioning Satisfaction as a paean.

The Beatles with their diminutive Yeah Yeah
Do you call that music ?
I surely miss Cathy's Clown
more than their Price of Love

Autumn skies,
seagulls roaming in ragwort littered fields
outside the town.
Mother looks for a second-hand pram
A child runs errantly across the road
The Bistra  has run out of coffee beans again.
Sepia photos were taken with love
for your gallant life
across the season's glare.

Flocks of seagulls by the quayside
A longing to know the poem's answer
Some 73 words to fix them
In  chaos choices are made