to walk across a street and see:
lined golden bulbs with fixing glow,
and flickering flames from waxy tips,
and lying radiance – worthless stones,
and then to find that no one light
is yours to keep nor yours to lose.

to look across a forest hued:
a hundred golden sun-lit leaves,
that scatter themselves on fresh brown earth,
across a palate of flaunting flowers,
and then to find that no one shade
is yours to keep nor yours to lose.

to read a book from end to end:
and taste that rhythm and rhyme and sound,
then tear its form and see its meaning,
then piece it back with admiration,
and then to find that no one word
is yours to keep nor yours to lose.

to meet again with one another:
and see them age with grey and sorrow,
with merely hope to see tomorrow,
the grains of sand in glass they borrow,
and then to find that no one friend
is yours to keep nor yours to lose.

to venture life and only find, that:
nothing
is yours to keep nor yours to lose.

A life hangs painted on the wall of the world
made in brush and texture on the canvas
the hills and trees and rivers of experience
are drawn broad and large.

Bright points of detail shining in brighter colour,
memories sparkle like sunlight on water.
Standing out in jewels are snooker and cribbage and beer.
Jokes and stories are picked out like light on leaves
and mended bikes and late night lifts glow as flowers against the shadows.

No more trees or hills will find their way onto this view.
No more flowers or rivers will gleam or wind.
It is complete and we must see
though artist's brush is stilled and colours dry
the memories will remain undimmed and firm
and love will keep the picture clear.

We stand here now and mourn the artist's passing
but our heavy hearts are eased by the gleaming landscape before us.
And it is to our own pictures we must turn
and save that we keep the memories bright
and at the close we ensure our lives
may at least approach the beauty of my Father's painting.

When she turned her gaze upon me,
I was a mote of dust
caught in a beam of sunlight
I was huge and beautiful
and bright.

I laughed and danced
and shone.

And when she turned away,
a cloud moved across the sun
and I was extinguished.

I can not hate the woman you love now
Only jealousy invades me
A monster it is
My hands are emptied by it
My head taken over
Making me ache for you
To see what is real
To see what she really is
When you are not there

I watch her run her hands up his leg
It's not your leg , I ache
The way he laughs and touches her
Not quite the way you do
I am not the one to say
Whether anyone else is good enough for you
Because really am I , I guess I was not
But I know I could not be where she is right now

                                      *But everything is irrelevant
                                         You are the exception
                                             And all I want to express to you
                                                When you're not here
                                                    
                                                                ­                 This is not me