I sing of a black hole
an emptiness or a void
in the indescribable blaze
of a dying star
In a minute it is gone
and I have no more words
for my song

At Epiphany each year
I think of the Magi
who foolishly doubted
a star's inspired leading
and went to Jerusalem
to enquire of a king.

A king who was noted
for disposing of claimants
to the crown that he guarded
as if held by glue.

In an instant the destiny
of scores of young children
was wiped out forever
by this one mistake.

Had they read Micah's prophecy
of the birth of a Saviour
they would have reached the stable
as lovers to a tryst

and the Bethlehem children
would have lived life as normal.
The carpenter of Nazareth
would still be the Saviour
and the blackbird have sung
over cradles, not graves.

Blueberry Friday
today adds fancy biscuits
Breaking tradition

Wherever I go
he's there with his walking frame
smiling cheerfully

In one of my dark moments
I saw a starling
orbiting
all the old emails
I thought I'd deleted

Hai Ku who are you?
Japanese form, poem true
May I write one too?

We lived in Cornwall then
crashing waves and seaweed tangles
sea views looking so far distant
it could have been to another hemisphere
Bliss
At least we thought so
until- you know how the smallest things
trigger a firestorm?
In this case it was musc
each of us despising the other's choices
'til the rows reached a crescendo
stereo shouting
and the split was inevitable

Don't let the worry
of giving and preparing
wipe out the wonder

A message of love
is sent down through the ages
every Christmas

This snowman melted
though he struggled very hard
against the sun's rays

What can I wish you?
Good in abundance, inner peace,
infinite blessings

In the old garden
long hidden through misuse
amateur gardeners are restoring its past
with the help of professionals
who know about such things as
should bee boles face east
where blue poppies do best
and which are good grapes for wine

It took quite some courage
to hack at the creepers
and break up the concrete
but look at it now

As someone approached,
the pigeon I was watching
skeedaddled quickly

I am helplessly bound
by the magnetic stare
of the famous magician
about to perform
his most noted illusion

Do I dare
to read the conditions
that say in the small print-
No refund for knife slips
by even a quantum,
which leave me in limbo
I do not know where

The geese flew over last night
I saw them in moonlight
The whisper of wing-beats
eclipsed by their honking

Steady in line
one after another
changing formation
but never the pace
A graceful sight!

The stump of the tree
cut down by thieves trespassing
glows pain day and night

Here we have for you
a happy birthday haiku
without more ado

With mingled feelings
of sadness and joy
I read the note
found tucked in a handbag
being given away

It brought back faint echos
unsettling thoughts
of relationships broken
of good times and sour

Only a note
but it casts such a spell
It quite overpowered me
'til the phone woke me harshly
and I came back to now

Trains cross russet moors
forests ravines waterfalls
in scenic splendor

To the untrained eye
most modern art -
'modern'  meaning anything
this century or less -
though luminously painted
remains mysterious
and at times a shock,
a shock so great
as to render one speechless,
minus even a syllable,
on the gallery's contents

Though a friend of mine
a respected artist
was heard to say
as she left the exhibition
"scrambled egg, scrambled egg"

The purple prose
of the local paper-
trying to imitate
the tabloid press
with its flaming headlines-
describing the animal
seen in the headlights
of a reporter's car
very late at night
is a bit over-ripe
in the cold light of morning

Imagination,
versatile thinking
makes a good Haiku

Five syllables (short)
Seven syllables (longer)
and five more to end

The poetry group
teaches us many new things
including Haiku

"The length of a lyric"
the writer explained
over a cup
of what looked like tea
"depends on eroding
a concept held dearly
down to its heartwood
to let it sing free"

I'm wending my way
to the poetry group
trying to frame
from alphabet soup
some rhythmic offering
by way of a change
from shame-faced admittance
"I've nothing"- how strange!
But just as I join them
with something to say

They're doing Haiku

Heavy rain
lets you know
which of your shoes
leak

An observed word
infrequently heard
can isolate
or implicate
the visionary
thin with worry
in a dastardly plot
which will get him shot

In an absurd dream
or possibly a vision
I saw this thin line of words
all lower case
illegible
except for one word
isolated in capitals

It was my name

Tenderly drawing a book
from its place on the shelf
noting the decrepit
state of its spine
pages so yellowed
as to be almost orange

I steep myself
in the tiny print
and antique wording
and pray for the grace
to fathom is depths
and grasp its meaning

Poetic proclivities
or a taste for rhyme
won't make a poet
all of the time

But discussing the subject
revising the plan
makes a prize-winner
from an also-ran

On a painter's easel
is a double portrait
just a sketch at present

The artist feels he hasn't
got the sense yet of his sitters
or of their relationship

What was the grievance
causing such a ferment?
Was there a fracture
behind the smooth facade?

The painter pondered

and went on with his painting

Five-Word competition
challenges poets
to include each one
meaningfully

"A stitch in time saves nine"
is proverbial
"Inchworm measuring the marigolds"
is a song

Snippets remembered
from days long gone by
built by a poet
intuiting a story
imagining an ending

a prize-winner

Rain sheeting
as forecaster says
"Showers over Cumbria have cleared"

Friends took me to the superstore
of clothing jewelry and more
and said "Look 'round and take your pick"
I said: "You'll think me very thick
but how can I decide to buy
when racks of clothes urge me to try?
There's too much choice, I'm overcome
Decision made- Please take me home"

You can see the headlines
"Bronze superstar switches beaches"
from cloudy Britain
to hot sunny Tropez
Everything's news to someone

Had haircut
Look better
feel happier
Good start to day

Is there an infinite number of stars?
No, matter is always finite
I lie in the hayloft pillowed by straw
innocently looking for the ultimate star
but it's all a mirage

Mother swatted wasp
that stung her
Daughter cried
for wasp

Little striped buzzers
keep interrupting
when I'm trying
to concentrate

Rain
Tests your shoes
Wets your feet
Pleases shoe shops

All innocent
I crossed the fortune teller's palm
with coins - and notes

She looked in her glass
- Crystal she called it -
and in her lilting tones

Forecast a syzygy of planets
which would bring me
all I desired

If it happened

The remorseless rain
beats against the wall
the wind rippling the puddles
of water on the path.

At the window
I ask 'Is it an omen?
Were the seer's words
as senseless as they seemed?'

It's become a trend
to climb the hills
or, to add spice
to run them, twice!

It's only fair
to indicate
fell-runners are spare
and carry no weight

Think of Joss Naylor
at eighty plus
still running past
the rest of us

Climb any mountain
Enjoy the space
the fair views
in every direction

Wait a while
savour the pleasure
You've started a trend
Everyone wants to do it

My new bed
goes up and down
electrically
How quirky

I sat in the shelter
as the sunset flared

In my steel thermos
is hot freeze-dried coffee
instant, not ground
but
a sure reviver

"Removal of shingle
is prohibited"
Reluctantly
I replaced my pebble

I heard a tale
of a broken heart
a soul in a desert
of uncovered sorrow
of griefs
and sad memories
which set him apart

What's different
you ask me
from thousands of others
looking at
oval-framed
pictures
of loss?