January thru
January blue
Looking out at dull skies
Wishing you'd come to an end

January thru
Winter's true
Drop in mood
Energy subsides

January thru
Spring's crew
Planning to take us all
From the depth's of the darkness

January thru
Slippery cue
To throw us off life's course
Let's end this remorse

The answer is not on your phone..
So stop staring at it in your zombie zone
There is nothing there to see
Nothing there to help your life feel free

We go from day to day
Looking down, nothing new to say
Lost on the street and in the shops
Blind to nature and blind to clocks

Put that flipping thing away
Stop living in the afray
Look up instead of down
Look forward to life, drop that frown.

Underneath the rug
Beside the discarded crumpled crisp bag
There is still joy

Underneath the illness
Near the vial of medication
There is still joy

Underneath the hyperventilate
As panic sets in and desparation takes over
There is still joy

Undereneath the funeral pamphlet
Reading the order of service
There is still joy

Light may fade
Light may go but come the morning
Joy can be found still

She speaks without thinking
He thinks without speaking
Two forces once linked as one
Bound for social discourse

She touches without feeling
He feels without touching
Desperate to entwine
Repelled by thoughts of separation

They break without being broken
They fall without moving
Mental forces at work
Emotions rushing out of sync

Rust 'n red
All of the Autumn colours in my head
As I pass by trees and endless hedges

Leaves falling down comfort me from the fall
Leaves bright with colour, nature's call
Ochre, yellow and wine

Hidden cottages behind trees
Hidden animals, light deceives
As it beams through the woods

Past the bend
Autumn smiles at me
Lifting my heart, setting me free

I've laid a place for you
A place at our table
I'm calling to say you're welcome
You're welcome at the table

All around the world people
Set new places for friends and family
A place for friendship
A place for peace

The sound of the grit ravels
As the metal end enters the tepid ground
The mist opens up and then closes
God's not ready to start the day

As each movement unfurls
My brow gets moist with salty sweat
The small hole becomes a bigger hole
Robin redbreast comes over to investigate

I drench my hands on soil to sort the stones
Smelling the earth with a deep breath
I pause rested and squatted deep on my ankles
Stopping to think as the earth continues to spin

This work belongs with me
And I was brought up with it
Strangers who cannot handle a *****
Are alien to us, the children of the soil