I've never killed in my long life
neither enemy soldier, politician, nor wife
This feat that causes me no surprise
Is what we call living in its normal guise.

I would never be so naïve as to say
The pen is always the only way
But it seems to me that war only proved
Who will remain, and who is removed.

And all this killing that leaves nations bereft
With the vile bitter cordite smell that is left
Widows lose husbands, fathers lose sons
Babies are dying from the barrels of guns.

To save nations weapons of course must be used
But there are so many people who are being abused
And when one discusses what is now simply absurd
There is nothing that is mightier than the word.

©Joe Wilson - The word is STOP...2014


"War does not determine who is right - only who is left".
Bertrand Russell

He walked a willing mile
To see if all was lost
He made a dreadful error
And he feared the awful cost.

He walked the mile to see her
He knew he'd been so wrong
The slight that he had caused
The evidence seemed so strong.

He'd realised that he was wrong
Another had poisoned his mind
And he had been so gullible
He'd not been very kind.

Love's tricky path he realised
Was a difficult place to tread
With dark and cruel danger
If you let others into your head.

So now he walked the willing mile
In the hope of being forgiven
And though he knew it wasn't due
He'd grovel if he was driven.

She hurt so much as she saw him
Anger and love filled her heart
She'd make him earn her forgiveness
But she'd never drive them apart.

But she wondered why men were so foolish
Why they took other's words with such ease
Why sometimes they only worked at love
As if they were shooting the breeze.

©Joe Wilson - He walked a willing mile...2014

Each side at pains to prove their own case
they can always justify their way
never considering their citizens plight
Ordinary people rarely having their say.

Then the bullets start to fly
followed by mortars and tanks
apartments get blown up causing homelessness
and then there's a run on the banks.

Foreign media all fly in
obviously to get a good scoop
around the demolished buildings
with their cameramen they all troop.

Folks entire livelihoods go up in flame
for them it has now all gone
they rely on the aid available now
it's just the choosing which one.

The cards have been dealt
a crisis may have passed
but the so needed PEACE
is unlikely...to last.

Joe Wilson - War zones...2014

There was I
And now I’m not
I’m lost like you
In life’s gavotte.

The world it spins
We all stand still
To make a move
We need the will.

Who will start
Will it be me
Or shall I wait
Well we shall see.

©Joe Wilson – Yet at a standstill 2014

Looking back I see a time


Before I was happy

You were not there, only

A crushing pain that

Tried to break my heart



Then you came…and I was saved.

©Joe Wilson – Looking Back 2013

Did you call last night, I never heard a sound
just the distant hum of a soul quite nearby
only another lonely person passing by.

Life on the street as a lonely old *****
Under the bridge and out of sight
I live in a loneliness in my own plight

But things you left, things I saw
bits of messages left for me
why won’t you go and let me be.

Is it the ***** or is it the drugs
why can’t I make out the words
it makes no more sense than all the dog turds.

Did you leave anything when you called last night
I’ve thought once or twice about ending my life
But I’d get more drugs if I sold the knife.

How the hell did it get to this point
I’m always to far gone to care
I’m not even sure that I’m even there.

©Joe Wilson – Life, or is it…2014

I was never one to complain - like hell, I complain about all kinds of everything
Nonetheless I had never for a moment thought that I would be the one chosen to go
To travel that far with no guarantee I could ever come home
To live with the knowledge that we might lose everything I valued
But it was a risk I knew that one day I would take, a choice that one day I knew I'd make.

But Mars! This was gonna be one hell of a journey
One we'd trained for for years, one we'd hoped for all our lives
But way back then none of us had children and wives.

Blast off successful and we were heading up at thousands of feet a second
No going back now. ******* it, it was better than all the *** he'd ever smoked
But it was serious stuff, despite all of this and that that they joked.

But then when he thought about it he realised the nonsense of it all
We can't even look after the planet that we live on
What right have we to go and probably destroy another one!!!

The spell was broken - he woke up. It was just a dream.

©Joe Wilson - στα όνειρα (In dreams)2014

A whimsical bit of nonsense about distance.

My many coloured life...

Colour me brown for the woods I played in as a boy
For the bow and arrows I used for a toy
For the friends and the fun and the unfettered joy.

Colour me beige for my calm and neutral look at life
The nothingness that could have been spread with a knife
The colour I felt before I loved my wife.

Colour me green for the nature that surrounds
For the children we had and there ever happy sounds
For the promise that their future hopes abound.

Colour me cream for your quiet elegant ways
That fill my life with beautiful days
The joy of being in a life-long phase.

Colour me blue for the truth you speak
For the trust you gave when my life was bleak
For the quiet solitude we sometimes seek.

Colour me pink for the true love you give
For the beauty of each and every day that we live
For the small thoughtless sins that you always forgive.

Colour me red for the passion we still feel
For each other a passion that is still very real
For the hearts that we tied with an emotional seal.

Colour me purple for the compassion you hold
For the sensitive spirits that with you unfold
For the judgement and dreams that help me feel bold.

Colour me yellow for the wisdom you set free
For the knowledge I learnt so empowering to see
For the sunshine in your heart saved especially for me.

Colour me all the colours so magnificently
You gave to me life far far less ordinary
You gave me your love and you showed to me…me.

©Joe Wilson – My many coloured life…2014

Our odd tale is set in the Old Wild West
Where stories like this are imparted the best
It tells of the feud of two bitter old men
Who argued quite often and fought now and then.

The fact of the matter is that each had a ranch
And running between was a large river branch
Each claimed the river to be just his alone
They argued the point right down to the bone.

Family members were brought into the fight
Over the years shots were fired left and right
Amazingly no one on either side died
Goodness knows some of the best shooters tried.

Then one day against the family wishes of both
A man and woman from each side did betroth
As they loved despite anger that they had both known
Into each other's loving arms they had each flown.

They married in secret and needed a home
A small ranch was for sale where cattle could roam
So the new couple bought it and opened their ranch
It was just at the head of the large river branch.

And then dammed up the river and halted its flow
The ranches below had nowhere else to go
But they said to his parents and also to hers
"Unwatered cattle - or fighting! What's worse?"

At long last after dozens of years in a fight
Someone had seen sense and had some insight
And had forced the old rivals to both compromise
Grandchildren, not fighting each other - the prize!



©Joe Wilson - Bashing heads...2014



A fun story about the value of compromise, and the value of water.

Though willing hands are always there
To feed her, dress her, and brush her hair
Disease has crept through her with stealth
Some things just can't be stopped with wealth.

The frailty was quite slow at first
She couldn't fasten her shoes at worst
But then it weakened her gentle heart
And eventually it tore her life apart.

And though she prayed with all her might
She started soon to lose her sight
She fell down often and broke her hip
And life began to fade and slip.

In time she couldn't leave her bed
And dreamed her dreams of Christ instead
For she well knew he'd suffered worse
Than her small Earthly painful curse.

Now in her mind in fear she weeps
Her life but spent in fitful sleeps
She waits in hope for His Holy hand
To lead her to the Promised Land.

©Joe Wilson - She waits in hope...2014

He sits cross-legged with fingers poised
His needle threaded with fine silken cord
As a bright new pattern takes over all thought
He starts a new coat very soon to be bought.

In each and every coat that he’s made
A customer’s future has been finely inlaid
For the tailor is also a very wise man
And he makes people happier whenever he can.

This maker of scarves and coats of all sizes
Won praise from the King, who gave him nice prizes
The new coat he’s making is for the King’s son
And he’ll sew in much wisdom and lots of good fun.

When the day comes that the boy takes the throne
He’ll be filled with such wisdom as never he’s known
The tailor talks not of such things, he won’t tell
He just smiles to himself to see all that is well.

©Joe Wilson – The Wise Old Tailor 2014

Written for children to enjoy

Carelessness



His large toolbox fell with a crash from the car
Spanners and wrenches and nails spread afar
But he gathered them all as best as he could
And piled them back into the boot as you would
Then he started the engine and set off down the road
Feeling quite weary from the day's heavy load.

It hadn't occurred to him to look under his car
He was tired and his journey was really quite far
But a large six-inch nail had got caught in the tar
And it punctured a tyre in a fast moving car.
The driver of that was too reckless that day
And the speed he was going was so fast they now say.

The car made a lurch and spun out of control
Then it veered to one side as it started to roll
It spun as it rolled and hit the side of a coach
The glass in the sides smashed like a cheap five-bob broach
But the damage was done and some passengers fell down
Right into the path of the car spinning round.

It scythed through their legs in a horrible way
The sounds of the screaming just wouldn't go away
And six folk lost their lives as the carnage went on
Imagination strained it was something beyond
The driver of course he was one of the dead
As the car wrapped around him and damaged his head.

The other man arrived at the end of his trip
Grabbed his box from the boot with a good grip
And set out to do the job he'd come her for
But could only find three six-inch nails not now four
He was sure he'd purposely put four of them in
He'd just have to and get another one again.

Joe Wilson - Carelessness...2014

Many years ago I witnessed a similar accident to this. As with most accidents it didn't need to happen.

We were just a bunch of teenage boys
Who’d grown up playing with Dinky toys
Who now sat in this Master’s class
Exams upcoming we had to pass.

With Fowler’s Usage in his hand
He strode amongst our hapless band
And taught us all of composition
And how to use a preposition.

He always wore a teacher’s gown
That seemed to match his careworn frown
With his long chin we called him Drac
While flirting ink-bombs at his back.

His language classes were of renown
And in them none would play the clown
He made it ever seem such fun
Including always everyone.

He also taught us English Lit
The class that was my favourite bit
Though as most favoured Shakespearean pickings
My personal choice was always Dickens.

While Edward Lear wrote tales of Nonsense
Charles Dickens had a social conscience
Writing tales of deprivation
Still he entertained the nation.

Our Master taught me all of this
And lost in books I am in bliss
And I thank Tom Davis for it was he
Who opened my eyes and set me free.

©Joe Wilson – The Master 2014

I saw you there and I fell in love
I heard trumpets sounding from above
I’d found my angel, I’d found my muse
The one I cannot bear to lose.



©Joe Wilson – My muse…2014

Walking along on the shingle spit
At Keyhaven near to Milford on Sea
You can almost touch the Isle of Wight
Less than a mile away o'er the lea.

Crab-fishing next at Mudeford Quay
With Lizzie and Sam on the nets
When off flies my hat which then lands in the sea
Chase is given but I’m taking no bets.

Later, me new-hatted, we sit by a pub
Enjoying our lunch and a chat
And we laugh at the turn of events in the day
Particularly at the flight of my hat.

Wearily later to our lodgings we go
Chicken Cacciatore for dinner, by me
We then all collapse and nod off to sleep
This just always will happen by the sea.

©Joe Wilson – A Windy Day by the Sea…2014

His now withered hand hardly moved
and yet I still knew what he meant
but it hurt me so to see my Dad
once a man so powerfully strong
be brought down by a bad heart
and by arthritis so cruelly bent.

His last eleven years were all in pain
it was plain for all to see
he worked all through the second vile war
sometimes in long eighteen-hour shifts
but he died at only fifty-two
in front of my siblings and me.

I will never know how my Mum coped
there were six of us to raise
and though she struggled, oh how she struggled
she fed and clothed us by means
It was only much later as an adult
that I understood and looked back in praise.

©Joe Wilson – My beloved parents…2014

I took a walk with you that day
Ere long you gave to me your heart
I gave you mine in love and hope
And now we'll never grow apart.

Storm clouds do come and then they go
We move along within the flow
And when the sun comes out to shine
We're out there too and moving slow.

We've eased along throughout the years
You've sometimes chased the fears from me
And I in turn have dried your tears
In love that's how it's meant to be.

But what a journey, what a ride
you are my muse and my best friend
Those epic times, you by my side
I'd do every bit with you again.

©Joe Wilson - What a ride...2014

"I think therefore I am" Descartes once said
But with no thought left is one then dead?
For now, my head is full of thought
Some is random and some was taught
I fight so hard to keep it full
Against inevitable ageing's pull
I'll write my words, do crosswords too
Anything that will stir my stew
I'll fight it every which way too
By always finding things to do
But if it finally comes to pass
You'll find me in the old long grass.

In the warren that is my mind
I remember that I must be kind
Ere long will I remember that
Growing frail is such a ****!

©Joe Wilson - Frailty... 2014

"Cogito ergo sum" "Je pense, donc je suis" Rene Descartes (31 March 1596 – 11 February 1650)

He sits very still in concentration
In his search for the memory within
And he lets his mind go wandering free
As he looks for the answer to what will be
And then he spots it and grasps the thought
The only solution, his last resort
So finally he looks out of his eyes
To see the problem that his brain denies
He can now remember how to climb the stairs
But chooses instead to sit in one of the chairs
The answer has all but flown away
The stairs will wait for another day
And later with the thought completely gone
He no longer remembers there ever was one.

©Joe Wilson - Lost... 2014

He saw me watching as he was eating his fill
with me he seemed totally unconcerned
but then out of nowhere his enemy pounced
a fox on the hunt for his tea unannounced
but as the fox struck the rabbit’s head turned,
a chase ensued and the fox he got burned.

The rabbit ran zig-zag all over the field
with the fox giving chase with all might
the rabbit charged this way, the fox it went that
by the time it was over I was laughing in my hat
then the rabbit reached his hole and he shot out of sight
the fox had to give up, he’d go hungry tonight.



©Joe Wilson – Rabbit 1 – Fox 0…2014

For children.

Travelling at speeds well beyond our understanding
Leaving behind a world now in total Armageddon
The spaceship travels light-years to reach somewhere
Anywhere that can bear the species alongside their own
A species so tired of war that they set out completely unarmed.

They were searching and searching for many aeons
Till they chanced upon Earth as a place to stay
Gravity was very good, the air would be perfect
But in violence such as they had left behind
we **** one another and other creatures too.

So they continued their search and quickly passed us by.



©Joe Wilson - Passed by...2014

A short piece of whimsy.

Wandering in my mind looking for reasons
I came across far more questions than answers
Why are so many children of the world dying
Why are so many many mothers crying
Why is God so cruel to them – but I know
It is mankind that is cruel, it is man.

Why was man put here to be so unkind
Why are we here at all if not to find
A way to learn to treat our sisters
A way to learn to love our children
A way to learn to respect our elders
A way to learn to love with dignity.

Some choose a path that takes them to God
Some choose a different way and yet still hope
Some take a path that leads to their dying
And leave behind their widows and children crying
Can we not yet see that utter pointlessness
Nor see all of the good that we should bless.

A little child lies dying in a hospital crib
Her mother so unwilling now to depart
The shortest of lives that the wee thing lived
Like a stake has been driven right into her heart.
She was killed in the crossfire unintentionally
But she’s no less dead, can we not yet see!

A Cruelty Unbearable…2014

I thought I had passed this way often before
there were things I absolutely recalled
things that stirred in me old treasured memories
feelings that had previously left me enthralled.

And of course I had, for love is just like that
each memory is a memory to enjoy and repeat
the love that stands by you and with you each day
will also make memories that make one complete.

All through these years of a life filled with love
one person has stood by my oft foolish side
and as memories come flooding back from long years ago
the woman still here now then stood as my bride.

We pursued life together and our memories are shared
a life spent without her I couldn’t possibly have taken
and though now with age our passion grows gentler
our love for each other is as ever unshaken.



©Joe Wilson – Reflections 2014

You were in deep thought when I last saw you
You never see me looking, I’m a shadow
I always admire your quiet dignified way
I want so much to speak, I have things to say.

I watch and wait and then see you leave
So what did my reticence even slightly achieve
I stand as that shadow each and every day
Hoping for the courage to just simply say.

Hallo, how are you, may I join you for a while
And perhaps I’d receive your radiant smile
But I’m just not that brave whenever I stop and think
I’m actually invisible and we couldn’t share a drink.



©Joe Wilson – In the shadows 2014

I saved my childish heart for you
and luckily for me you took it
our life of glorious ups and ups
across the world or just next door
I would never have wanted anyone else
I couldn’t have loved you more.

Who could ever imagine
how amazing a person could be
the goodness and love you’ve given
you’ve given only to me
and why I ask was I ere so blessed
we make our choice with a heart that’s free.

There are times even now when I catch
my breath and feel a wonderful sigh
of contentment at my very full glass
and I smile as I think of my riches
it’s as if I’d been given all of that bread
and eaten all of those fishes.

After these thoughts my pains just ease
I’ll deal with those another day
and in your beauty I will bide
I’ll not change a single thing
but listen to your beating heart
and hear my own heart sing.



©Joe Wilson – Love will always win…2014

He walked right into the wooden door
time seemed to stand so still
and then it was as if his life
was presented before him to be relived.

He first saw his beloved parents smiling
and Monty, the cocker spaniel he loved
he saw his grandfather with his snowy-white hair
then his brother stood beside him laughing
as a little boy again, at the gypsy who knocked
at the door and was trying to sell lucky white heather.

He saw his sister and her friend playing cards
in the parlour, and then his friends from school
throwing a rugby ball in his direction to catch.

Suddenly it rushed forward to his adult life
his wife, his children, the fun, and all the pain.

And then it stopped and he passed through the door

but

he never went home again.

©Joe Wilson – In Transit 2014

Blow hard the wind on the stony seashore
blow all the cobwebs from out of your soul
sadness and sorrow no longer belong there
it's time to refresh and feel once again whole.

Crisp are the winds as they ease fears away
starting a dawn of a clear brand new day
face to the sun and look forward to life
go for the future and a purposeful way.

Look to tomorrow, there's no going back
beyond the horizon and over the crest
move honestly forward and aim to do well
and effort and promise will help with the rest.



©Joe Wilson - Moving forward 2014

You are the other half of my completeness
You are the half that makes me whole
You are the goodness that my heart will cherish
You are the mate to my now settled soul.

You are the peace within my breast
You are the essence of all that’s best
You are the one who brings the smile
You are the reason that I feel blessed.

You are the one I’ve loved these years
You are the one in my love-filled heart
You are the one who has shared my fears
You are the reason that I seem smart.

You are the one who has dried my tears
You have loved me with no hesitation
You are the reason that I breathe each day
And I love you without reservation.

©Joe Wilson – You 2014

He sits there reading, happy enough now in his own company
what is it he reads -ah yes – a Tale of Two Cities
a favourite, but one which evokes an old memory
of long ago when was just a young man.

Of a time when war raged across Europe like a plague
when it was in the grip of a madman bent
on seizing power everywhere and not caring how
and men like him and many of his friends went.

But then there seemed a real purpose to it
and besides, he met Françoise and loved her so
and later with many of his friends now dead
it was over so he went back home with Françoise instead.

Now she also is no more, killed by muggers who were armed
and he sits all alone, no girls, no sons
wondering why his country’s leaders
can never see the futility of all the guns.

Once more the planet rages with war
once more there will be unnecessary deaths
he finds himself wishing the impossible thought
the non-invention of guns, and it leaves him short of breath.

Sadly men would have just found another way to **** each other
– and that is the real problem. It never goes away.



©Joe Wilson – …it will never stop…2014

Tick    tock    tick    tock

Moments passed
Nothing.

Tick    tock    tick    tock

No single thought could fill his mind other than the fact
that he was in his house alone, that and the fact
that he was having a heart attack and there was no phone.

Tick    tock    tick    tock

The pain was unbearable but nothing like as bad
as the thought that filled his head at that moment
the thought of never seeing his beloved wife or children again.
The thought of never sharing a private moment before sleeping
and always seeming to be holding hands as they wake.

Tick    tock    tick    tock

Please! Somebody please!!

I don’t believe in you, but please help me
I don’t believe in you, but please help me

If you are there please help me. Please!

Tick    tick   tick    tock    tick    tick    tick    tock
Tick    tick   tick    tock    tick    tick    tick    tock
Tick    tick   tick    tock    tick    tick    tick    tock

Tick    tick   tick    t



©Joe Wilson – Tick tock 2014

This is a familiar but fortunately infrequent feeling,
but with luck and good management I always have a phone with me.

Tender is the heart that breaks at night
when hurt will come and cause such ache
and sleep will never come to stop
the tears that fill the deep dark lake.

A kindly word could change things
but so rarely is it heard
it would show the pain is understood
but she never hears a word.

He lies there too in his own thoughts
not beginning to understand
they loved each so much one time
their life  is not as was planned.

But how very different it could have been
if only they had both spoken
it had only needed some kindness
and now both their hearts are broken.

Tender is the heart at night that loves
as it searches for its soul-mate
it needs to feel that it is cherished
before it suddenly gets too late.

Tender is the lonely heart
tender the lonely soul
pride can make you drift apart
but your heart will bear the toll.

©Joe Wilson – Tender is the heart…2014

Easing into the day in languid torpidity
he slowly unwinds to face the sun
and like every other sloth before him
he moves so very very slowly
you wouldn't even know he’d begun.

©Joe Wilson – Just lazing about 2014

Let’s hear it for the sloth :-)

Angela called again today
this time she was borne in the wind
she tore away at my heart again
she certainly is no friend.

the pain travelled right up through my neck
then made its way down my arm
there is nothing at all about Angela
that I could an endearing charm.

So then I got the big guns out
my nitro-lingual spray
I sprayed the devil right under my tongue
till slowly Angela flew away.

I’ve had the attack, the by-pass too
a long time ago plus a day
and I guess that the odd call from Angela
Is really such a small price to pay.



©Joe Wilson – Angela called – again 2014

The dark night now surrounds me
I am all alone in my world
There is no one here distracting
I am thinking now of my girl.

I was always such a lucky man
I have children, one and two
Last year I almost lost my son
This year my daughter too.

My son had a head-on collision
Almost twelve thousand miles away
But now almost eighteen months later
He is now fully back into play.

But my daughter, my beautiful daughter
Chemo treatment made her go bald
But she’s back on the upside now smiling
I weep when her bravery’s recalled.

Of course she will still need some treatment
But she’s better, and we’re now almost cool
And I know by the end of her kid’s holidays
She’ll not need a headscarf for school.

I think of my son, I think of my girl
I’m grateful my luck has been fine
For if I was to lose either of them
I just couldn’t finish this last line……….



©Joe Wilson – My Children 2014

While those around him were going mad
he stood completely still
then he saw what he was looking for
picked it up and went to the till.

The madness took him by surprise
it was truly beyond belief
so when he’d found what he wanted
he’d left with a sigh of relief.

Things were thrown and tempers flared
it was well beyond the pail
and that was the only visit he made
to a January sale.

©Joe Wilson – The January Sales (his only visit) 2014
[just a bit of fun]

I never said you’d done it
though we both know that you had
the way you choose to think of me
so often leaves me sad’

I don’t know how I’ve hurt you
I never meant to charm
perhaps my easy-going ways
just cause you too much harm.

But we were drifting slowly
and then you suddenly perked up
the way a person might do
when they've found a more full cup.

But I never said you’d done it
I’d know that I had lost
and now you don’t believe me
and that’s too great a cost.

©Joe Wilson – Accuser accused 2014

It was a grey dawn that held an ominous weight about it
all the curtains were drawn shut and yet somehow he knew
the wind-driven rains that had howled in the dark night
and the long-buried secret that would surely now be on view.

The man who’d abused him all of those long years ago
had disappeared like a ghost in the middle of the night
and now there would be those who would find out at last
why he’d suddenly vanished from everyone’s sight.

He’d flayed him so often he now hunched his back
where his skin had knotted and mended like string
but the worst of his fears – the drunken attacks
humiliating tears and the terror it would bring.

He stood it for so long, it should never have been
this pain from a guardian, so vile and obscene
till one day a knife found its way into his hand
at the time of the stabbing he was only fourteen.

Being out on a farm and there being just them two
he was terrified he’d be taken far away
so he buried the guardian as deep as he could
and hoped underground was where he would stay.

He tended the farm and made it quite a success
and carried on as best as he could
he finished education and returned to the farm
where he waited almost hoping for last night’s flood.

The terrible secret that he’d kept all these years
made him avoid making friends so he’d no kind of life
he watched television and he read many books
and discounted all thoughts of a girl or a wife.

How he’d survived the twenty years since he just didn’t know
he was lonely and so terribly sad
and though he knew what he’d done was all that he could
he was painfully aware that it was wicked and bad.

And so in a way the storm held mixed blessings
he could finally admit to all what he’d done
he knew that his life would never be the same
but in his thirty-fours there was not a thing he had won.

With reluctance and a heavy heart he drew curtains back
rain water and mud flooded his land six feet deep
and though sheds had fallen and hedgerows lay bent
the ground yielded nothing and his secret it would keep.

Slowly he now realised that he’d wanted this release
but he’d not be believed if he called anyone
he couldn’t bear the thought of more years of disgrace
so finally, desperately, he loaded his gun………..

©Joe Wilson – …the worst of his fears…2014

They sat in blankets as they tried to keep warm
penniless with no heating and no coal to burn
while outside they heard the violent storm
the blizzard of snow and ice all churn.

Slowly they both began to freeze to death
there was no-one to help or ease their plight
they were just poor and lonely old sisters
who would probably die in the dark of this night.

They were just another statistic of winter
a cold one much worse than some others
they had eked out their money on eating
so they now huddled together like lovers.

There are so many who suffer in winter
and we really should spare them a thought
we should all keep an eye out for our neighbour
as help due to their pride is not sought.

It is dawn now and the sisters are frozen
one died and the other breathes slow
but there is no-one to even take notice
and in a short while like her sister she’ll go.

©Joe Wilson – huddled together like lovers…2014

Woven throughout the passage of time
a life image of every soul
each setting out on its journey
and striving to reach the goal.

Often falling along the way
each choice a test of fate
and wrong decisions that will be made
results we don’t anticipate.

A bitter word here, a kind word there
differences that we settle
choices for peace or violence
oft put us on our mettle.

Encounters on the way we make
can cause us so much ill
but choices that we make for good
will linger with us still.

And so we make our journey
each move is new and fresh
the aim to be true to one’s self
from that day we leave the crèche.

Perhaps we choose a mate ere long
to help and guide us through
the best ones are the ones we love
they help to keep us true.

We have our faith, a private thing
it helps us as we travel
and when we stumble and we fall
we sometimes will unravel.

It’s then we test in our belief
and sometimes we’re found wanting
but guidance from within the faith
can make our tasks less daunting.

And so we pick our way again
our faith perhaps restored
and certainty that lives well spent
are blessed and never bored.

If we work hard and we believe
and keeping faith try not to stray
a time will come at journey’s end
when we will see the better day.

©Joe Wilson – Keeping faith 2014

He could hear the steady beat in his ears
it was the only sound there was sometimes
and was the most comforting sound ever made
but he knew this was not the only sound
as he sometimes felt rather than heard
something making other gentle sounds
and when the something moved
he had no choice, he moved too.

Something in the distance would make noises back
though that thing didn't seem quite so gentle somehow
and where he was he felt very safe and comfortable
but although he couldn't see anything he felt
he was on a journey that would soon be over
and then – he would see everything.

Then one day he was there
he was surrounded by brightness
and moving things making strange noises at him
that he didn't understand and which made him cry.

But soon and very gently he was placed next to a thing
that he instinctively knew was his Mother.
It was the most beautiful thing
that he could have ever imagined.

©Joe Wilson – A new beginning 2014

The garden looks lovely at this time of day
but an essential ingredient is not here
for without your feel for its Gaia
It’s not really a garden I fear.

I touch a rose and see your beautiful face
in the hibiscus and camellia it’s there too
but without your gentle encouragement
their beauty just doesn’t shine through.

I sit on a small garden bench in the shade
and I think of the things that we said
and the tears start to fall and they just cannot stop
how I wish for those good times instead.

I’ll carry on tending our small garden
I know that you’d like it that way
but it will never again have that sparkle
that it did when you tended each day.



©Joe Wilson – The now empty garden 2014

For an age I stared at that heron
my camera poised ready to prove
that if you stare long enough at a heron
the awkward buggers just will not move.

But the moment you put down your camera
and move your eye line a little to one side
the sod takes off while you’re not looking
and there’s loads of loud groans in the hide.

©Joe Wilson – The Unmoving Heron! 2014

They set out together a long time ago
there was a keenness to their gait
whatever was going to be thrown at them
they’d take in their stride and then leave to fate.

They made many new friends along the way
with hearts so stout and true
and some friends are with them still today
’cause they’re good people through and through.

Their journey took them far and wide
it has been one hell of a ride
there were hardships aplenty along the road
but they never left each other’s side.

And now they are here in the twilight years
the journey’s not over for them yet
the gait is less keen and they have their fears
but they've got plenty of mileage in them yet.

©Joe Wilson – Keep going…2014

Pleasant thoughts of beauty
fill my waking hours
watching you, just watching you
as you tend your beloved flowers.

I’ve watched with joy for many years
and I always feel the same
as beautiful as the flowers are
to you they can’t hold a flame.

Flowers grow from your loving care
and in the breeze I see
they seem to smile as you pass them
I think they agree with me.

I sometimes wonder as I watch
how life could be so kind
to grant me life within a world
that allowed me you to find.

And as the dusk approaches
a halo glows round your head
perhaps you are an angel
and I’m in Heaven instead.

©Joe Wilson – My waking hours 2014

He woke up
thus it was a good day.

By the time he was dressed
he was just about ready
for his first cup of joe.

He walked down to the nearest eating place
and ordered breakfast, plus their largest coffee
– black.

The eggs were good, the bacon too and
though the coffee was only adequate
sadly it just had to do.

He got out his phone and called his partner
who must have been waiting for him
as he was there in minutes. He too had a coffee
– black.

He put some money on the table
and they both left.

So far it was still a good day.

Things change and sometimes
in the least expected way.

They got in his partner’s car and
his partner pulled away from the kerb.

They both heard the loud grinding noise
a lifetime before they ever saw anything.
the force of the out of control wagon
drove their car right over an embankment
and down a four foot bank into deep water.

Had they not been killed by the crash they
would have drowned anyway as the car was
buried in the mud at the bottom of that
particular gravel pit by the weight of
the wagon on top of it.

It hadn’t been a good day after all.
Not a bit of it.

©Joe Wilson – Unintended consequences 2014

To sit thinking quietly on ones own
is perhaps today’s rarest commodity
when you say that you wish to be alone
observers will tag you as an oddity
and yet that solitariness is divine
a time to question one’s thoughts
a moment where honesty will guide you
and lies get your personal retorts.

©Joe Wilson – Private moments 2014



We seem though discouragingly needy
to resist the desire in our mind
to be seen to be caring to others
as if it was a sin to be kind
but to be kind to others is no sin
it is all that we should ever be
and He who is watching and caring
misses nothing in His Heavenly See.

©Joe Wilson – Not sinning 2014

he thought of all the horrid things
he would have liked to have said to his boss
for he was a very nasty piece of work
a fleeting thought and then it was lost

he’d have told him how much he despised him
and that he thought he was well past his prime
but the thought passed as quick he had it
as with all thoughts now he hadn’t the time

he’d have said lots of thing to some others
there were many many words they had used
but the one that had hit him the hardest
was when his boss had used the word ‘accused’

but then he had been stealing the money
he’d spent it on gambling and cars
but he was lousy at picking the winners
and spent a lot too much time in the bars

but he couldn’t face a lifetime in prison
he couldn’t have lived with the shame
so he felt that a fast trip down earthward
was the only way of saving his name

and so he was now on that journey
one he’d never taken before
it’s a once in a lifetime experience
when you jump from the fiftieth floor.

©Joe Wilson – Jumping 2014

‘a bit of fun – for me if not for him!’

He sits reading the letter from his father
it is a small reach after all these years
and he is not sure how he will respond
his father was a hero – but he wasn’t there.

It has been hard growing without a dad
his mother never loved anyone else and
always waited, and waited, but he never came
he’d felt so let down, this hero, HERO
and he couldn’t even visit his son
he should feel bitter, and yet
being in the forces himself now
he sort of understands.

He wishes his mother was still alive
she would help him come to a decision
she never stopped loving him, always, always
defending his decision to stay away
he knew she would have agreed to his search
she would be happy for him, she would smile
and he would melt, oh how he missed her
how he’d wished for a mum and dad to love.

He would find him and he would take steps
to see him and ask him why he’d never come home
though he already knew the answer. He didn’t know him
and yet – he had always missed him- and now
he needed to know him – he needed
an anchor to his past life
as he himself was about to go away
he too having a child, a little girl he adored
and he was terrified he too would run away
and the thought was more than he could bear.

Was this just an excuse after all these years
or was he going to use his father’s guilt for his own ends
he wasn’t sure, but he knew that he would do anything
rather than do what his father had done to him
he desperately wanted to know his dad
he missed not having had him around but
he missed his mother so much more.

In the midst of all of his confused emotions

He needed answers…would this man give them……..

©Joe Wilson – His regret-the son’s story 2014

There was an eerie quiet peacefulness
in the small sparsely furnished room.
The only sound that may have been heard
was of a solitary man wearing a brown robe
with the hood pushed carefully back in order
that his head would bared before God. He was
breathing in and out in a steady and relaxed way
as he occasionally and deliberately turned a page.

The man, perhaps in his sixties, one couldn’t tell
but for the age-worn hands that rested gently on a tome
before him. He was deep in thought and concentration
as he studied his Bible, something he did daily.
These were his moments of quiet contemplation,
but ones that he never shared, but with his God,
and upon finishing, he quickly rose and rejoined his Brothers.

He felt at Peace.

©Joe Wilson – In quiet contemplation 2014

And so it was his past caught up
a dread for many many years
it was time to face reality
and belay his darkest fears.

A time to face a painful truth
he’d never known this child
he’d left when he was just hours old
and the loss had made him wild.

A soldier he’d been sent abroad
to fight for others’ errors
and in the deepness of his mind
he remembered years of terrors.

They’d captured him and half his men
his captain they had killed
and made the rest including him
dig the grave and get it filled.

When he came home he was a wreck
who drank himself to sleep
and though he had had several jobs
they were impossible to keep.

He later found his faith again
and now he has a certain peace
but the fear of meeting his son at last
was filling him with unease.

He wonders if he’ll understand
and how it will work out
but the boy had come and sought him
now he waited full of doubt……..

©Joe Wilson – His regret 2014