Today.

Today long stripes of sunlight
split by tree-trunks
lie dappling a meadow where
hills fold down into
patches of sunken creases.

A shaky bridge strides banks
of transparent
water while horizon clenches
tight to itself rows of
cropped-naked poplar trees.

A decorative oak sheds nearly
black-shadow necklace
of rings over dewy landscape
scattering diamanté
glitter curving thru straightness.

A front of pale light floods sky
with azure blue and
falls on cows lined alongside
nearly dried hedgerows
munching cud's first fragrance.

A kingfisher strikes quick end
to a fly in flurry of
colour and puckers of current
cover his exit
with stippled chinkles of music.

Today marches on with astute
unawareness while
I clumsily note-taking notice
oozing from wild
nature its fine-textured beauty.

I am me,
the product of timeless eternity.
You are you
for whom wisdom created earth's beauty.
We are
citizens of great universality.
Let us
make it a place in which Love is the rule.

There are those
who would of a whim destroy nations
Bring to quick
end proven power of regeneration.
You friend
are he who can change course of history.
I am me who
though weak can add the weight needed.

We individually can make difference
believable.
Together humanity can choose lasting
peace.

Dearest My Lord.
please to read this missive not with haste
but in serious thought.


Come Sire, and view such unholy state
to which thou hast brought me
at being with child and of hearing lately
of thy touring intent mine heart
starteth in great alarm, as I indisposed
must know for sure that thou be
not going away.


Fie upon that scheme mine Liege for
thou hast in me fathered a babe.

Thou shouldest stay, and embrace mine
own confinement to disgrace,
whereby the infant will bear no name
and wouldst thou abandon me to this fate
prithee have pity on offspring shame.


Pray marry me do, thou canst not afford
to blacken my name by
seeing the truth and fleeing abroad
and thus relinquish thy parenthood destiny.

I belong only to thee so do not ill-use me.

Thou sought  thy way, now takest thou mine
for without thy support I must surely decline.

Thus thou ought to realize I live in frightful
dread unless on thee I rely.
This heart beateth only for thine say I.

Thou hast undone me so prithee consider
direst consequence, face thy conscience
and beside me do stay.

I remain heavy with anticipation lest thy reply
dashes all trust and quill thee therefore
to think my Lord on resolving such trouble
as of utmost importance.


Sent in the month of September 1709.
From Mary Elizabeth, distraughtly thine.

Under- Staffed.


Heavy with deepest deep sleep
he feels layers begin to un-zip, one by bleary one
and dipped head under the sheets.

Aware of small moving feet creeping away
he starts a hazy ascent but finds another quick
fit of dozing making him stay.

Too early he knows he leaves dreams half done
and grieves battles half-fought which had to be won
but once awakened chores have begun.

He wearily raises sleep-held lids to see standing,
wide-eyed and still night attired, his kids with tray
holding biscuits and milk scarily balanced.

Three little grins singing loudly as planned a great
"Appy Buffdy" and though childishly done his heart
swells as with pride he accepts his fate.

Love is a single Dad doing his under-staffed best.

Your sweet golden notes penetrate my soul.

They strike life's
tone-deaf
bowl of plaintive
tunes,
and replay inaudible
sounds
by injecting a warm
dose
of chords
as an amorous goal.

Let who will condemn, we sing life our way.

Yet bittersweet, but
one day
this chorus of repeated
yearning will
vocalise
loudly and relay
unfinished
music
for love to play.

When fleshed, ardent desire will be sated.

Destiny's fire will have
abated
off-beat keys, complete
and bonded
forever,
we will harmonise
then,
created the better for
having waited.

These exposed moors lie shrunk
and unslaked under searing skies
yet streams in damp bushy sidings
feed thriving ferns or tall bullrushes.

Gorse scorched to unpetaled shards
of stiff pretence once bore yellow gilt
yet life dies on hot clifftops and wings
feeding fledglings seek richer harbours.

This moorland looks on ocean's plenty
as rather precocious for incessant thirst
in midsummer dirth fathers disturbance
to parental warnings of dying seed-heads.        

Unheard their dumb cries for water
when plants' burnt insides become raw.

Shall we pluck intensity from the air  
and perhaps coil it soundly and
extravagantly into a petal-soft bed
of rarely seen dreaming,
where sheets of silk make textured
messages into sequinned bliss
with rainbowed moonbeams ?

Shall we take flight, you and I ?

Untried dimensions wait to take us far,
to make morning metaphors,
and catch sight of bliss
made for our breakfasting bed.

Let us capture euphoria
to feel more elation, and when
glorious sun enters,
rapturous untamed passion
shall paint light on the face
of our embrace leading to ecstasy.

Shall we make haste then to taste eternity ?

Shunted back home, grey-faced
from war's front come tired men,
longing to be understood.

To start life again in same roads
full of faces they fought to save
needs no password of proof.

Veterans brave clapping crowds,
with traffic compounding stress,
in heads addled already.

Minds slowly engage, befuddled
and sunk still in battle ground din
the norm feels unsteady.

Note how killing fields maim lads     
who in their unwinding stay mute
about those lost in pain.

May homesters remember "effect
follows cause" so hope cruel wars
never happen again.

Night captures a darkness ink black,
when sound
takes from stillness tangibility.

Emerging now beautiful gem-stars,
which bring
a rounded diamond brightness to night-time.

And, surging toward me as prostrate I lie,
they embrace my soul.

I pluck them, and thick velvet black
becomes holed.

I fall up into space as they race to my eye,
then I lose track of duality.

One with the cosmos, I am flying.

With such beauty pain is lost.

I witnessed the moon eclipsing tonight,
like the silver stud on my sable dress
or a shimmering pearl securely tied
to the velvet of my black necklace.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Held by love's cosmic pull, her eye,
never losing veiled lustre turns pale
like you the gone jewel of my sad sky,
vanished from sight yet always remain.

Walking the glade tonight nature first appears right
yet it is not, when mounds of grass convert to browns
too soon, and down by the stream massed butterflies
seem silently caught in fertilized grey shrouds, clouds
of pollution say they breed no more, too weak to flutter.  .
War like this against earth's vale of favour brings claims
of sheer neglect which sees no further than dying bees
and will not question why, from earth, they get no reply.
A few years hence no wishing will recompense for this
for from foolhardiness gross greed created a fatal mess.
Seeing tonight this suffering glade makes me so afraid.

If first light that follows night's release
seizes every day's dawning
to increase
the force of nature's fresh-air feast
which overrides
residues of human sleep re-course
and provides new
meaning to a deep-breath revival

then why not breathe it in ?



If delight upon which one stumbles
at first light gives the urge
contained in that
humbling moment as dawn takes
up reigns cleansed by
dark silence to draw in morning air
and purge dream-dried
remains in lungs, heart and mind

then why not breathe it in ?



If blessings of waking at first light

outweigh last cosy moments in bed

and aid us gather fresh store of life

then why not breathe it in ?

Will We ..........?

When we, this mortal shell let go,
shake off fleshly crust,
grow in freedom and exult in new
stature of the unseen............
When our journey extends to scenes
where spirit speaks louder
than any known sound when begins
heaven's composure to feel........
When preparation for some further
assignment is faced may
we calmly accept what is given and
quietly wear a new coat.
When we by adopting the fluxuous
universe find different
notions of sharing in multiples see
best in harmony then
as knowledge of otherness breaks
cover, will we rebel........ ?
When found our breath in music of
spheres as alternative
voice learning new parts and living
perhaps in feather or fur
will we remember who we once were
or be happy just to forget....... ?

Below the fields of love lost
emptiness batters against reason
to bury memory
in blanket-cover of sudden shock.

Behind the black ribs of grave's
maw eyes leave wet stains trickling
down fear-draped
reality as life- change invades.

Under stone-cold grief's touch
aloneness shivers as night-dreams
reveal former needs but
sighs begun must cease abruptly.

Over-reaction suffers regret
as sanity clutches at crusts leaving
mourning to wear
thin for things time cannot fetch.

Above the bent face of faith cries
for acceptance break cover pleading
for comfort by
trying to recall all the good times.

Within the core of trust by trial
hope might snake toward courage
and face chance of
learning survival without love's fire.