Stepping out the back door
in the quiet of the evening
To that place in summer where
the wild rose and honeysuckle would grow

I caught the blackbirds song
carried 'cross the gardens
As daylight seeped away
ending this individual day

That had been spent with you
and now...ever would be
Left to dilute itself within
the long tapestry of life

And then later when
my head married the pillow
I remembered the blackbirds song
and in dream spoke to you.

This morning
the blackbird sang
Her low guttural notes
made me long to stay in bed

But I rose for work
and thought of you
Doing the same
as daylight slowly seeped in

And I knew
behind yesterdays harsh indifference
That your heart was human
as the blackbird sang.

They've been good to me the council, I mean
they put me here
and when all's said it's not that bad a scheme.
With my penthouse flat I'm the overseer
of the world below me its rights and wrongs
and from my sitting room, well man the views!
Of the far green hills and the rising sun
in the early hours gives my heart a song
that only fades when I switch on the news.
But it's the roundabout that yields me fun.

It lives below me and I must give thanks
to whoever
placed it here, a planners' pen, paper blank,
if it were like that no planner better.
For he drew into my life such real joy
I've known too much sadness - I lost a son
but don't dwell on that watch the roundabout!
Enter, exit, quick and slow, bold and coy
I see it all each day, what have I done?
They all pass through it but I have no doubt

That they love its lanes and its scrubbed white paint
guiding them on
some too confident, others like to faint.
Their parents drove here 'neath the self-same sun.
Indeed a time or two I must recount
an accident, mans lust for the violent.
Up here, I will confess, within my heart
I saw all the signs but I did not shout
the warning words I could have sent
but looked on in horror as per my part.

And so, I suppose, until near the end -
I'm not quite sure
when I'll make that choice - I will have to spend
my time in this flat the unnoticed viewer.
Watching you drive the roundabout, your car
spluttering, stalling, even breaking down.
A journey joyful and sometimes sad
taking you nowhere or taking you far
through congested traffic enough to drown
out all my loneliness, leaving me glad.

Let our love flow
Like two burns
Who find their confluence
Within the heart

Then run
Like a mighty river
Tumbling over the rocks
Marrying in the still pools

Finding the sea.

Searching here once more
For what may or may not be
Love seems lost tonight.

With prejudice
You write me off
What right, my friend, have you?
To strike me down so quickly

Cannot you see
That I have fault
Like all my siblings here
Who live on the Earth as one

Do you have fault?
Perhaps you do
Then you are just like me
So imperfect and impure

But I wont ask
About your faults
What right, for that, have I?
I accept you as you are

And I stand tall
Despite your thoughts
And live in disregard
Of the prejudice you serve.

This place chooses
not to ignore the sea
that gifted its soft sand
upon which footsteps wander

As the waves pound the rocks
the sound colours the voices
of the old Norse raiders
whose longships challenged the surf

While I think of those
who like winter's Goldeneye
make of this place a home
marrying it to their heart

Yes, this place chooses
not to ignore the sea
for it is a breathing artform
sculpted by her hand.