sun sinks beyond the hills
the shadows begin to dance
a thin shapeless eerie dance
and night falls upon us all

big red ball in the early east
and the wily sun also rises
another prickly reminder
that night falls upon us all

now the sounds of fear fill our hearts
we wonder what the new day brings
borne upon a dawn etched by the gods
of timeless mystery and bewilderment

cuddled together in a warm embrace
we drive the frost and the froth of life
from our sore and penitent hearts, and
night falls upon our worst nightmares

Owl eater
Fowl thinker
Low growl
High howl
Hades story
Which way
You going

Passed  a  neglected  garden  of  late.
It  seemed  in  quite  a ­­ sorry  state.
Some  men  came  to  make  some  notes.
But  seem­ed  to  give  it  little  thought.
Up  on  high  the  grasses  gr­ow.
Beneath  the  windows  row  by  row.
The  other  plants  just­ ­ cry  with  pain.
I  guess  we'll  never  grow  again.
They  ha­ve­  taken  up  our  space  on  the  ground
Like  an  advancing  ­army  I'll  be  bound.
They  are  taking  our  water  Oh  my.
As ­ they  journey  to  the  sky.
Perhaps  it  soon will  be  resolved.­
And  peace  will  reign.
Once again

Keith  Wilson    Windermere.  UK.  2016­.

in my dreams i'm in a car
and i'm driven like a star
the crowds yell their adulation
elated i soak in the adoration

in my dreams nothing is impossible
and everything is just so possible
the hapless ones whine their malice
undeterred i rinse the silver chalice

in my dreams the prize of my longing
is the open door through which i'm going
though my goal is a starry distance away
i trudge on and do not mind the drudgery

in my dreams i cling to the elusive sweetness
of a myriad near-misses and close shaves
and time like a dream keeps on flying,flying
into ethereal worlds unknown in fancy blue

in my dreams  the sun's always shining bright
the clouds are always fleeing life's warm breath
and i'm like the messenger that never arrived
with the good news of life for all who labour

in my dreams the sound track is melancholic
it is played in low dignified notes that mourn
a past that has become the miserable present
and cry about a future that is temperamental

in my dreams everyone has a dream come true
and everyone weeps till they can weep no more
the silence is spiced with occasional sighs
and deep words that never die ride the wind

"You touched my fingertips.
I felt it. My heart skipped a beat.
Taking hold of my hand. It stopped.
The high school child in me embraced
the playtime once again.
Sitting on a park bench thinking of our bleachers
at the Friday night football games.
Now we cheer for the pigeons as they fight
for the bread crumbs.
It's all so beautiful, only different times.
We are here still together, that's all that really
matters.
Beautiful to reminisce, grateful that
we can.
To kiss each others lips, and start our hearts
pumping once again."