I looked into the water
And saw my past.
You came into view with my sister in your arms
As you sat her next to me, I caught your eye.
You smiled,
An uneasy red-lipped, smile.
You sat next to my father in the front seat of the car
And began to chat
I was urging you to look round.
You did
Our eyes met.
You could not understand
What I was doing
“You are a funny little chap” you said,
Turning away.
You were thinking,
Thinking about me.
I had done it.
I waited.
I waited some more.
You looked round again
And smiled a lover’s smile of defeat.
I had done it.
I had made you fall in love with me.

Hail the spring morning!
The early sunlight smiles upon the garden
Spots of dew twinkle like diamonds on a rose
Which stretches tall, full of elegance and grace
A bumble bee struggles clumsily into a foxglove tube
And then out again

It is warm and it is beautiful

Slugs rest hidden under leaves waiting for the twilight
Before entering the stage
A wood pigeon coos his predictable song
Outdone by the fresh melody of the blackbird
And the sonorous caw of the crow
The full blaze of the sun has swept the dampness off the grass
The sky is full of blue
It is warm
A clump of white and purple daisies dance
Swaying wherever the soft breeze takes them

And they are beautiful

I tried to find a song
Which would express more eloquently
What I wanted to say to you
But I could not
Then I thought that I should shut up
Keep it to myself
I mean, what would be the point?
You would not welcome it
And you do not feel the same way
But then I thought  
We only have one life
And, in any event, you already know
That I love you.

I listened to a song,

It was beautiful.

It reminded me of you.

Your smile.

The simplicity of your life.

And your death.

You fell asleep and did not wake.

A beautiful end for a beautiful man.

I wonder if,  somehow, your essence lives on.

In a man, a woman, a child, an animal.

If so, I wonder if I see you, I shall recognise you?

I think I would.

What if our understanding of time is wrong,

That it is not chronological

And that we only discover this after we “die”.

If so, I look forward to meeting you again

For we had too little “time” together

Whatever that means.

Who was he?" she enquired of me
A man I knew, a man of many parts
A soul who stirred both gender's hearts
"He owns an open and honest countenance" said she

Open? Yes but he could shut it tight
"That I find difficult to believe" she remarked
"That a face of such design be moved to dark"
Dark? Yes but his true self was reborn in the light

"How so?" She was now both perplexed and wise
I and others have seen him turn a page
Or speak a line upon a stage
"Ah now!" she laughed "I see it with my eyes"

Words written and quoted were the butter on his bread
He could comprehend and play
Darkness or light any day
About a man so open and honest as he, what better could be said?

Sometimes I just want to be normal
I want to stroll over to the pub
And chat to a guy I know
And when I want to leave
I shall go

I shall walk out into the sunlight
Stretch my back and get into my car
Put on my music loud
And drive as fast I can
As fast I’m allowed

It will take twenty minutes or so
To reach the station in time
I park and watch a disabled guy
Limp to the ticket machine
I thank my lucky stars
That it’s him
Instead of me

You see me as you leave the train
You smile in that familiar way
Demure and kind of formal
A smile that a wife
Would give to a husband    
If he was normal    

Yeah, normal is what I’d like to be
Nothing special, just as before
A man who could hold his head high
A man who could sing with The Beatles
Tell me why

She has a nest in her studio
She has a nest In her bag
She has a nest in her note book
A nest of memories of her mum and dad

She has a nest on several bookshelves
She has a nest of tools below the food
She has a nest of films on the TV
To watch if in the mood

She makes a nest for the tortoise
She looks for nests in a tree
She makes a nest of her bedroom
Even in her new lavatory

The car is a nest of tobacco bags
A bottle without a top,
A note if anyone wants the car moved
She’ll make nests until she drops

She has a nest of ideas
Her brain is a nest of plans and schemes
And when she goes to bed at night
She has a nestful of dreams

Softly now,
Wish as you whisper,
Wipe away the tears
That hesitate in my eyes,
You paint in lavender today
Tomorrow in blue,
The day after?
Who knows?
Why do I weep?
It is not the colour,
No! It is something else,
It is the pain,
Sudden, like a slap,
That then seeps into my heart,
Squeezing it with kisses.

I sit alone, watching the thin branches shudder
In the breeze,
I look again.
They are still.
No, they sway,
I think,
The blossom feeds on the fog,
As it puffs and sinks and settles.
All life and death is here -
A blur,
A smudge,
A shadow,
A lick,
A spit,
A kick,
I flick a switch and it has gone.
The pain remains,
That beautiful ache in my eyes,
Washed clean so that I can see
The reality of time
Expressed so eloquently
In a moment
That I love.