Twenty well chosen words
Can say much more
Than twenty badly written
Pages

You know I got back from my beautiful Maltese holiday about 3 am yesterday
Today I sat and looked at my beautiful garden for the first time in a week
Tiny pastel flowers peer like little faces from dark green foliage
Lavenders vie for space with vibrant California poppies
Hollyhock ready to burst into summer colour
Stand next to shrubs of Rosemary
While sweet peas grow in wild abandon
Through the khaki green yellow branches and twigs
Of my twisted willow trees
The rose bush I planted over the grave of my old cat
Stands in her full glory of weeping red blooms
There is a magical perfume from French and English lavender
Offering their fragrance to bees
Who provide their own unique music to this wondrous panorama
Of wild and cultivated beauty
Yes, there are weeds as you might call them
But they also have there place here and so will be left to grow in peace
To live in harmony with other life
I see my garden as an ever changing work of art
Art that I will never tire of looking at

Bread is the staple food of life
We feed and nurture the delicate shoots
Lest we have no bread in the future

Words are the future of poetry
We must nurture and care for those
Delicate gentle words
Lest they wither and die on the vine

I wander the sandy wastes and the deserts barren plains, they have their own stark beauty washed clean by infrequent rains

Each grain of sand an art form carved by natures hand, only the blind cannot see the beauty of this land

Stop, look and listen to what natures provided here, the desert has a purpose and the purpose will come clear

Close your eyes and listen to the whispering singing sands, appreciate the beauty of this stark forbidding land

Yes, a hundred years ago they crossed those ****** fields
Boys of many nations
British, French,Germans, Indians, Africans. Eventually Americans
Did they fight for patriotism. No. For most the army was the only job they could get
And so it is today

I heard it on the local news
Two more died young by the railway bridge
Brilliant sunshine and the roads were dry
On the fateful day
When they were destined to die
I never gave it a second thought
After all many die from a heavy foot
Until I had to drive past the place
Where two young lives left in haste
Saw the smashed and battered trees
Bedecked with ribbons and flowers
Moving in the breeze
As though waving a last goodbye
To the kids who in that place did die

343
Yes remember that number
Many of you will never understand the significance of
343
But that is the number of firefighters
Who died that infamous day on 9/11
Why did they die?
Simply because the lives of others
Meant more to them than their own lives
Yes, they were nervous, even scared
But they never faltered
Their final sacrifice on our behalf
Means that there is still hope
Their solidified blood
Is the foundation that a great nation
Has built an even greater nation on
Never forget that number
**343

Believe in your dreams
Believe what can come
Live your life
But don't live alone
For every woman a man is out there
For every man a woman who cares
Open your heart and open your mind
That person is out there, that person you'll find

Yes, sleep in innocence for you know not yet the life
That will come to you
Yes, sleep in innocence
Because by age 12 you will be beset by violence
Live by street law and the power of the knife
Age 14 and you might be doing time
For Robbery, drugs or some other crime
Now children here is the bitter truth
By age 16 out of a gang of ten
2 of you will lie on the mortuary slab
Sleep in innocence children of the ghetto

Yeah I can do the Chefy stuff
Food art on a plate
It makes the perfect picture
And the flavors are so great
You can pay a fortune
To eat a meal like this
But
I'd much rather sit down
To a plate of fish and chips
Or
In these months of cold, of wind
Hours of sleet and snow
Nothing else is better
Than a nourishing bowl of stew
Rough diced meat
Ten kinds of veg simmered for hours on the hob
Thick rich gravy and potato mash
Now that really does the job
Now that is food to keep you warm
Keep winters assault at bay
Something to be eaten at any time of day
Yes I can do the Chefy stuff
And for you that might be just fine
But give me the rustic country foods
I'll take that every time...

A few small things in a bag
A good canoe and a paddle
A river unknown
That is all I ask for
My 10x8 tarp for my shelter
Fragrant pine twigs for my bed
My alarm the sweet dawn chorus
Of a thousand singing birds
The fragrance of the woodsmoke
As I watch the sun sink down
The messages in the moon and stars
Before in sweet repose I bid goodnight
BUT

So few places of Tranquility left

Yes they brought me home
Torn in body and mind
Claimed I was a hero
On the day I should have died

They carried me on a stretcher
So they could pin a medal on my chest
But was it really a tribute
To a man now close to death

My body now a shattered wreck
But a mind still so sharp and clear
I can hear their whispers
Resonating in my ears

This was the girl I married
The one who said that she was mine
She's still with me but with another
Living in a world of lies

Why? It wasn't my fault
That the I.E.D went up
And turned my fragile body
Into a mess of ****** pulp

So I can no long perform
Can no longer be a man
But was that a good enough reason
For you to find another man

You think that I don't know the truth
Shed silent tears in the dark of night
I lost my body but not my mind
On the day I should have died

What worth the marriage vows
When things don't go your way
What now the worthless words
She spoke to me that day

I left here as a man
Kissed my wife and said goodbye
Got blown up and shattered on a foreign field
I lived but wish now that I had died

From Americas rocky mountain tops
To the Himalayan snow capped peaks
These are the things of nature
That all of us should keep

Australias barren outback
Englands green and pleasant hills
Nature free for all mankind
Who seek her gentle thrills

From the Amazon tropic forests
To the arctics icy wastes
Things of natural beauty
When traveled at natures pace

The azure blue seas of the Pacific isles
Cruel dark seas of the southern cape
Placed there by natures hand
To be respected without hate

Drab plumage of the desert vulture
Bright birds of Paradise
Birds of every colour
Birds of every size

Scorpions of the desert sands
And the grey atlantic seals
Both there for a reason
As only nature can reveal

Think about the lion
The African king of beasts
The soft eyed Chinese panda
That our children find so cute

Mountain tops and hidden valleys
Vast lakes and rolling seas
All put there by natures hand
But not to be abused

Animals, reptiles, birds
Put there for me and you
They should be studied in the wild
Not trapped inside a zoo

We cannot alter history
Or repair the damage we have caused
But we can stop the mass destruction
Of the world that's mine and yours...


*Also around the world in fourty lines

Sitting under a tree for 3 hours painting pen pictures


10:30

Ok lets make a start, sitting on my little canvas stool
my back against a spreading oak
Facing west, sun behind my shoulder
20 yards away to my left a lake,
carp rolling. Sun silvered scales flashing
mirrors in the light
Above my head young squirrels play tag
a deadly airborne game for you and I
warm suns rays filtering through the canopy of rich green leaves

11:00

A passing overhead cloud
the lake now a dark and sombre place
no sign of life there
The squirrels ceased their play some time ago
what do they know that I dont
OK into the rucksack for a cold beer
after all times not a problem

11:30

The suns moving round to my right
throwing strange shadows cast by the bush over there
shadows ever moving, fading and growing
shape changers with every passing cloud
Squirrels are back but no longer at play
Over on the lake a canada goose with 5 young
bundles of fluff
Time to get a photo or two

12:30

Well the suns out again, moved further round now
but over to my left dark ominous clouds are rolling in
The air is suddenly still, sultry, heady with the scent
of flowers
Silence now fills the air, the birds and animals gone to places
only known to them
A lightning bolt rends the grey black sky
its time for me to go
I never made the 3 hour target
but I tried

The sun has left my south country hills
Now they are lashed by wind and cold rain
The birds that fly south for the winter
They have left my hills, they have gone
The once rich fields have been stripped of their crops
They now lie there wet, muddy and brown
No more bright flowers for butterflies and bees
No more the sound of birds summer songs
I miss the warmth of the sun on my face
I miss the bright summer moons
Its the change of the seasons in my south country hills
All to soon the winter will come
A time to sit down by a warm log fire
Think of the better times to come
A time to think, a time to write
A time to gather ones thoughts
To dream of the sun once more on my south country hills
To dream of spring and the new life it brings
The cold rains of winter will soon fade and pass
And once more we will greet a new year
Once more I will wander the pinewoods
And enjoy my south country hills

I sit here in this sunlit glade beneath the southern downs
I gaze upon the beauty not yet destroyed by man
On six sides are bushes, trees of every shade of green
But sadly in this blighted land such scenes  now are rarely seen
Over there an aspen with leaves of silver grey
They shimmer in the gentle breeze like a shoal of fish at play
Close to me a stand of oaks so mighty and so strong
Their leaves so dark and sombre green abound with natures songs
There stands a tree bereft of leaves branches stark bare against the sky
I know not if it sufffered or why it had to die
Soon it will be the time to put a match to the fire
Then smell the fragrant wood smoke as it ascends into the sky
I'll sit quietly,  cook my food, drink a beer. Maybe a scotch
Sit and watch the westering sun, watch the moon and stars come out
Once more I'll wake up with the sun and a glorious choir is heard
No human intervention
Just a choir of singing birds

I will build my home in the high woods
No electricity nor phone
My morning alarm the chorus
Of birds welcoming the dawn
My drink, water from the chrystal stream
The nectar of the gods
My church the wide expanse of sky
Pure nature for my god
No more the stress of daily life
Ño more the strident ring
Of the mobile phone with yet another message
Of gloom and dark despair
I know that I must die
As all of us must do
All I ask is that you bury me under a tall tree
Here in the place that I love
Take a walk in the wild wood
In the wind driven rain
Smell the smells of wild mushrooms
Growing un restrained
Or sit with me in the pine woods
When the sun is beating down
Intoxicated by the pine resin scent
Invading body and mind
Come with me my friends

A simple question
Some of you Write of dark despair
Suicide and self harming
Others write of never ending love
The beauty of long passionate nights
And sunshine warmed days
But is that really honest poetry
Simply, yes because its what you believe
And so therefore I must be honest
Many of us write of times long past
Of sadness, death and loss
Of honest times in poetic verse
Me? Well I will always be me
I write of sadness
Also of creativity
The Tranquility of natures charm
But then that's just me
My way
But to all who write from a chosen path
Just occasionally take a divergent route
Then write honestly from your heart
Write the words we love to read

Joe

Before she left to work
He promised her that she'd come home to a
Meal to remember
She got home after a long hard day
Excitement running through her veins
And he placed a plate of beans on toast in front of her
Meal to remember she said with raised eyebrows
Honey, I spent 15 minutes trying to light the gas oven
There must be something wrong with it
Babe she said, I'm not surprised
It's an electric cooker

Don't do it girl I said
Don't you marry that soljer boy
For that boy was born for war
And girl you'll suffer grief
You see girl
If he thinks he'll die tomorrow
He'll grab the first girl that he sees
And in his throes of passion
You'll become one more distant dream
No girl don't marry no soljer boy
And become a widow before your time
For soljer boys are born for war
And at an early age they die