"MIRROR, MIRROR. . ?"

The mirror
watches him warily

mimicking his
every move

careful not to
miss the least gesture.

The mirror unhappy
it can copy

everything except
this man's mind.

Try as it might
what goes on inside his head

remains
inviolate.

The mirror drags him
into its self

drowning him in
his own reflection

keeping him forever
under glass

calmly awaiting
the next one who

stops: pauses -
checks to see if

his tie's straight
or his zip's zipped

or brush back
hair gone astray

straightening an eyebrow
into place with

a licked fingertip
a wink at his self

before the mirror
eats him.

The mirror
likes humans

likes to assimilate
them.

Only then
the mirror can

taste the tang
of thoughts

as only
humans can.

It enjoys their final fear
their silent fear

as the man
begins to realise

what is
happening to him

as slowly silently he
becomes glass.

PER ARDUA AD ASTRA...THROUGH STRUGGLES TO THE STARS.

The worse thing I
did in the war

was...to survive
when others...didn't.

Always the "Why me..?"

Others...better men than I
deserved better.

Every day is bitter.
A life lost.

I breathe the air
that they would never....

for them there was
no tomorrow.

I survived the war.

Find it harder
to survive my self.

The dead crowd 'round me
wanting to taste today's sunlight

with their eyes
that  accuse.

"Macte nova virtute,..."
they mock me with schoolboy Latin

"...sic itur ad astra!
they say and say.

The VIrgil falling
from my hand.

THE LANGUAGE OF WATER

You wait by the lake
alone

except for your self
&
your reflected self

as if the landscape
dreamt you up.

Your thoughts a flock of birds
scattered across the failing light.

Clouds laugh
run along the ground
on tiny unseen feet.

Trees stand on their heads
wriggling their toes in the air

& you
become as two

both real & unreal

as if a living
dream.

You hum
Pachabel's Canon

as sun & horizon
listen.

Not bad for a human
they both agree.

It's as if
I need a key

to enter this magical
dimension

as if I have to
invent one

...a magical one.
I take a little stone

whisper to it the secrets
of flight

and teach it how to say: "Splash! "
in the language of water.

The little stone
transformed  with its new knowledge

does as it is told

shatters
this mirror world

opens
the dream

and I enter
bewitched

as any fairytale
Prince

my voice
calling your sweet name

with longing

you turn
& we embrace

kiss
& look upon ourselves

as the dream
remakes itself

stitching itself
together with silence.

An old artist
(unknown to us then)  

places us
the lovers

at the center
of his composition

adds this
final brushstroke

and pleased
with his efforts

folds up
his chair

packs up
his paints & easel

smiles at our
kisses

wishes
us a goodnight

and is gone
eaten by the twilight.

Our laughter
frail & fragile

lingering on the night air

playing peek-a-boo
with the moonlight.

THE HOW OF WHY
(for Miss Kiss Kiss)

as we journey
drift from drift-
-wood to drift-wood

She asks me:

“Where do waves come from? ”

“Who is sky? ”
“How is green?
“Why is water? ”

I do my best(I
a mere father) to answer

but she is already
listening to a shell

tell of the vast sea
inside her.

SILVER STEPS

the moon
throws itself

into puddle after puddle
so that we may tiptoe

across on its back.

It bows as if it were
a Sir Walter Raleigh

before returning to the skies
to rhyme with June!

although now
it is deep mid-winter

& so the sliver steps
will freeze to mirrors

our breath
a cloud of laughter & words

dancing in front of
our smiles

we chatting in
speech balloons

this moment then
sculpted from perfection

you put a mittened
hand in mine

& we hum some song
we only half remember.

FIRST DAY

So that was it
was it?

Well...I
gave it a go but

no. . .NO!

It's not for me.
Boring...mostly.

When I think of
the things I  could be

doing
the sun trapped  in a window

the sky and birds
calling me to come and play.

School was for fools.
I only learnt that I didn't like it.

But you can't say I
didn't try.

What....what I gotta
go again tomorrow.

You kidding me!
I have a full time job

just being me!

No that's all!
I'm gonna go and

kick a ball
chase a butterfly

the important things
in life.

KISSING FOR THE MOON

Full moon in Sorrento
witnessing our kiss

amazed(envious)        
of this...our human love

and the power
of it

Trying to shed some light
on the secrets

our hands
tell
each other's bodies.

The moon muses
to itself

loud enough
for us to overhear:

'****! I wish I
could do that! '

Shine on moon...shine on!

We'll kiss for you!