Masking tapes covers cracks
yet you still broke into a  rave
it's the opposite of intentioned order
unsupported barricades buckle
the town sphere makes no sense.
Barbiturates bitters the night,
strangely forlorn as  inner suppression
gives no truth.

With Dot in the Hospital
2 reputed mini strokes.
A fevered delirium then emerges,
whispers of witchcraft are rife in the ward;
words sunken as rafters
rasping to strike again,
attempted barefoot  escapes
escapades as sure as her once hero
Charlton goalie  Sam Bartram
to be that sprightly girl again
her perseverance draws.

Skittles dance between my tears
friends from down Purley
have flown.
The Meccano club having lost its  secrets
too far gone into the past
to scoop tomorrow.
Falling  roundabouts and inhibitions

On those neon, metallic skies
sighting Angels
bemoaning their  Majesty,
such are the woes of the fallen
for wistful observers already.

After my plan ended
I turned to seriousness, 
like an uncluttered aficionado
I persisted with slide film,
treating them as an unfurnished enrichment,
for although not mounted
their sleeves were of equal impression
that captured the many verdant gardens visited,
holding them to a light box;
torn between being an Artist and a collector,
a feeling seemed to be conjured,
like a tentative transition
my heart wanted change,
tall shadows of people
cast contra jour,
a new benchmark for Autumns
dry like thatch.

your bare shoulders  remind me of  a packaged holiday
to a far off destination.
Your blonde hair denotes tender promises,
that I should now be with you,
due south on a whim
matching the open canvas of your
azure  dress
guided by your slender turns.

Fugit Fumus dived into a basket
of oysters just to make the ***
the underbelly of transformation
bodes unwise for this colloquial soul
Cloistered Lisa lost her circumspection
when she settled for dystopic Dan
from such a wretched family
with pneumatic drills
they'd rather shutter than amend

If I spoke too openly
or had enlarged on what was needed
I twice apologize,
were my plans  too profligate,
was it right to want to flourish ?
I can offer no  more than my envisaged platform
to safeguard the sedum and bearded iris
that had lost  to a profusion of ivy and bramble .

Are  better days possible?
and to whom may this concern:
the modern lonely
affording the air we breathe,
for wood and brick to make an abode.
Hiding in uncertainty
without a glimmer of a prize
I so long to be fickle and harvest
upbeatness along the pathway

The long boats labour through the docks
sons and daughters shadows cast
upon fathers thoughts
too soon he left his wives side
their children unused to his spoken words
under thatched roof ,
her ache fights the missing
whole she married.

Togetherness will comfort the moon
her shadow waits eagerly
to unite lovers on an equal plain
whose earnest thoughts are reflections
on a dewy bead of rain

Sometimes evenings are  like  ice,
a slow rage  borders before  making supper
and the washing  machine
like a  photo call
will project  tomorrows whiteness,
all in cycles  
abiding with the times.

We realign ourselves to the vassal
and with pitch forks attack
that demon dressed in black,
her pearl necklace spurs avarice
she bleeds from open spores,
Almighty spare us contamination
her rust knows no ends,
by the myriad dusk
those shadowed wings
are her guiling answer

I more than exist because I can walk
over hills, past crows
I overthrow wildernesses
with more than a bucket or *****
self belief needs to be stoked
ask any tractor any novice device
the firmament is more than a suspended thought
its in the actuality of enjoying life
the seed in us all.