Images extracted from
the tapestry of my dreams.
Sewn intricate...
Into a patchwork.

A quilt,
embroidered with lavish sequins and ornate beads.
Bringing forth fantastical motifs...
A dazzling display
upon the backdrop of my dreamscape.

Yet...
This mosaic of dreams
does not warm me so.
It never lasts.

They fall away like autumn leaves
come the dawning sun.
They get washed out and pulled into the tide,
as the waves beat upon the shore of wakefulness.
They fade into fragmented memories
that make no sense...
Incoherent and disjointed.

Eventually, they disappear...
For they do not belong
in a world of worldly things
and ticking clocks.
Their intangible and mismatched nature
render them inconsequential...
Naturally...
They get misplaced.

But I am stubborn.

I will fashion such a blanket.
One that skirts the boundary
of this realm and the other.

I will tailor it so...

So that...
I will sleep tonight,
swaddled tight and cocooned within its
glorious seams.
Tucked within the safety and warmth of
this blanket...
Woven immaculate...
Out of
worldly things and breathtaking dreams.

Atmosphere pervades this place:
A subtle, spiritual background
So surreal.
Far from haunted manors
Or flashing disco halls.
Soundless surrounds ****** my soul
As I’m serenaded by serenity.
Peaceful plains becalmed:
Punctuated only by gently rustling trees
And the distant twittering of birds.
I cannot feel any force
Except some sublime emanation
Of peace and tranquility.
Satisfaction soothes my mood
As I make the most of these lingering moments.
So good to chill out in the snug
Of my local pub.

Paul Butters

We can all do with a hug some days -
Some kind words

And the presence of someone who believes in you
Who will never let you down
Who doesn't make you feel insignificant and small
Who appreciates and doesn't condemn
Who won't pull you low
But helps you get up
Who can flip a frown to a smile
Add a little glow
And turn tears to a tickle
Someone who can bring a spring in the step
And a twinkle in the eye
We can all do with love -
When the chips go down
Or even when the wheels are up

We can all do with a hug somedays
So here's one for you.

Ease your way into the day.
Being Mindful is the way they say.
Focus on Now, we don’t have long.
Meditate or sing a song.
For ten long years it’s been pipe and slippers (without the pipe),
And Ages have passed since we were nippers.

Slowly we all fade away,
For time cannot be held at bay.
I wonder what it’s all about,
There has to be another way out.
We die like flowers according to science,
There is no alternative to our compliance.
We may or may not be ruled by God,
But so long as I live I don’t give a sod.

Easy days and a set routine.
Do my best to keep my house clean.
Nice pub lunches four days per week,
A peaceful living is all I seek.
You may say I’m set in my ways,
But I’m contented in my twilight days.

Paul Butters

I’m in a sleeping dream again:
Some bloke takes me into a nearby empty room
And asks me why I’ve done what I’ve done.
I’m so surprised.
A colleague says she had to tell him
What I’d done.
Another shock
Before I awake.

Now I see this dream is rooted in memory, real.
Yet how could my Id surprise me yet again?
Did I tap into a source
External?
Was it God
Or Aliens
Or someone or something
Else
Who sprang these shocks on me?

Am I two people
Rolled into one?
Or but a radio receiver
Picking up some telepathic waves?

I cannot help but ask these things.
For, when I die, will I
Fall
To
Deeper
Sleep
And Dream.

Paul Butters

Church bells ring of voices silenced
a darkened Moon is hanging low
crickets stop to hear the empty
as loving waters overflow

As angels call in voices singing
notify my heart goodbye
as deafened ears are opened up
no more tears are left to cry

Dying leaves, a crimson carpet
indigo ink at levied banks
waters flood my aching heartbeat
raising hands to you in thanks

Cloaking eyes, I'm in the shadows
petitioning  you another dance
whispering the coming reaper
if only I could have a chance

Softly come draped in darkness
ebony casts a ghostly glow
lovely bones in alabaster
putting on a secret show

Taking off the heavy waiting
holding down my paper heart
a poets voice cannot be silenced
by ticking hands you pushed apart

Silver tears they fall in quiet
in rivers taken right or wrong
releasing me & painful weighting
and sing me as I come along

Violins they speak so mellow
calling me as I go home
morning comes a glowing ember
left for you an Earthly loam

As the leaves outside are falling
and thickened air bids me farewell
whispering of my departure
& secrets I may never tell
although in this...
you mustn't dwell

Waving you off
in slow motion
blinking lashes bid adieu
darkened cloakroom,
veiling... hiding
memories of loving you

the only love
I  really wanted
the one I never... really knew.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Such a hunger
     holy hunger
         and thirst
              such joy
                   such peace

A Holy Place
      to be

Such a memory
     to return to

The Presence of God
      is in that place.

Cj 2016

Tonight
I turned
a corner

the  understanding
listeners
heard me.

Cj  2016

poetry

like grapes...pressed

from life's joy, pain, and sorrow.

Cj 2016