Morning in Monnow Vale

Take my hand and let us walk awhile,
Together we’ll feel the dew- making breath of dawn
and greet the sun with grateful exultation.
We’ll hear Earth’s gentle verdant giant yawn
and wash our minds in birdsong mile by mile.
perchance a kiss will give love its affirmation
or else affection may be written in a smile.

I won’t clothe your hopes in easy promises
Or try to embody the essence of all that’s good.
You will know me and you will know the truth-
Oh yes. You may go. That much is understood.

Feel me, the very me inside of you;
Nothing more pure, no better than this could be.
These great moments the mundane betray.
Feel, feel life’s passion not cling to its debris!

A lover's plea in winter

Please wait awhile.
Sheltered by the furrowed brow of winter
Heavy hanging from the eaves,
We’ll share hidden, stolen moments
Canopied by ochre leaves.
Clasp my pleading palm;
Mingling moist warmth with smiles.
Cast off burdens of care.
Let the crisp, crackle, crunch of ice
Accompany we who dare.

Do not think at all,
Indulge this moment to milk your heart.
Wallow in the wash of wishes won,
When succulent, ripe rapture
Spawns a love that’s ne’er undone.

The Beech Grove

Last steps make no sound;
They superimpose on moist unstirred grass,
On a cold bright lane, shadow strewn.
Flanked by beech, destiny’s guard of honor,
Branches crowd in intangible, tangled glory.
Feet fall within a psychic landscape,
Bereft of earthly impact
Above wrenched-away Earth.


Dappled light dazzles
Those left to wait for unheralded end,
Smearing the screen of one born of silence.
A sight of earth displaced from sense;
Cold clarity. Gone absolutely.
The steps of the unbelonging
Walk an empty country lane-
An after dinner stroll that ends
In Another Place.

The White Rose of Winter

Into the cold, dark night of despair
you were born.
In the teeth of winter’s rage
You unfurled for me.

This morning I first see you.,
Child of light and grace.
In your face of petals
I see the pure pulse of peace.

The world couldn’t keep you from me.
What bliss is this,
That in the dying season
you bring me summer’s beauty?

A moment in perfection


It’s now, it’s in this moment;
No hallowed existence savours more.
What mind brazed with the rigours of aesthetic strife,
Pursuing a perfect prize of lonely absolution,
Could hope to know love such as this?
Would Bliss outshine this divine kiss of lovers’ eyes?

Our shared smiles but hint
At a deep glory of eternal rapport,
Distilled mutually into a second’s instant knowledge.
Our touch is immune to the angry anguish of age.
There’s no end to original beauty.
What personal passion could fashion with such quality?

Three words of towering strength
Whispered wilfully into warm ears
Sears excitement into hearts melded with desire.
In life is any goal higher than knowledge of this?
Where impermanence has no meaning
We will live gently to give tenderly of ourselves.

Again, hope
Cold ideas slip away,
Leaving a dread of tomorrow.
Lost salvation leaves a scar shown to all.
Death is close but there’s still hope.
All must be new, fresh and clean,
Unlike it’s ever been
And I must close down a black part of me.

Tomorrow is the key;
New dawn will surely explode
All leaden regrets, wounding guilt-
And sun burns bright passion into will,
Holding it above the morass of doubt,
Leaving me without
A reason to abhor my sorry existence.
Night is a canvas for dreams
Painted without mercy, stroked
With the creative whims of divine justice.

I turn to her, imaged in sturdy stone;
Queen of the night, font of rebirth
Or else with earth
Destined to entomb another failure.

Marble Harvest

For the rank and file beneath white bleached stones,
Laid in parallel lines above broken bones,
Life’s fruits and dreams dark death denied-
Scything this white harvest from  despairing cries.

From across the sea they came to kneel,
Upon this cloy earth their wounds to heal.
Written in faces washed by tears
Are bleak farewells, lost hopes and fears.

For such sacrifice of unfathomable enormity
They stone-carved here in cold, sterile uniformity.
I wonder at the end of this dark grey day
Can death to stop death ever sweep evil away?