There is something holy trying to reach my mind
and its called eternal freedom

a road to travel into all distance
coloured red rainbow redemption

There is something holy that touches the deep of us
every time I read your poetry

There is something holy in the way you dream
something holy each time you speak

and unfathomed holiness
in each of your silences.

The local Robin has turned up early-
Mirroring Christmas in the shops-

Man loves to spend and loves to amass
whereas the Robin owns nothing-
but the red on its breast.

Some say the Robins red
is a prophesy of the Christ-childs  death


Christ blood spilled
to save the Robin and
Man, from eternal annihilation,

When Robert Frost visited President Kennedy
They spoke of poetry and power, of man
Of greatness and of God, of man’s swagger
Of poetry saving power from itself

When Robert Frost visited President Kennedy
They spoke of the poet’s responsibility
The duties of good men to other men
Of magnanimity and liberation

When Robert Frost visited President Kennedy
We lived a golden age in those few hours