the silent flight of
     Seagulls
mirrors my mind

and the cries of
     Seagulls  
sing my hearts desires

This star dust would burst
without patience;
This time also love is kindness.

you were flying around the Moon
when I first saw you
with your cat sat on the end of your broomstick
I thought witches belonged in fairytales
until you turned me into a frog
and yes it was love at first sight
just to hop around your cavern
keeping the flies at bay is a privilege
you are my fairytale princess
As heartless a witch one could wish for

somewhere someone must be doing a marathon rain-dance
and I hope they realise just how effective their dancing has been

dancing calling flight of the Seagulls
cuts through the blowing of the wind
as fast as fighter jets dipping dives
and reeling upwards into the distance
freedom wild as freedom was always
from the dawning of the feathered
sailing now on wings strong honed
masters of air currents and updraft

the hair on heads is to keep the warmth in
so why cut it

showered
by
your
presence

agape
my
honest
response

some are quick with the fist
and not very intelligent
fast with a denial
everyone else knows is a lie

she wields poetry to make sense of the sword in her other hand

eyes survey a distant horizon
and eyes see
what the heart loves
what the body cannot reach
where the soul is mingled
dissipated and whole

Blood , Red , Dark

Some would, run
run away

Accept me please
this our first date

Please let us arrive
find us in a red love heart

calculating heart of mine
be gone!
and may unbridled generosity take its place

Chalk and flint
Beech Woods
Furniture makers
Hills rolling
Rivers and stream
All being swallowed.
London expanding
the city rules
more and more.

Kingfisher flits and waits
a small twig on an overgrowing willow

Flash of Blue Stardust Feathers
The stickleback fish the prize

that Kingfisher master of the river
fisher supreme

Those cobalt volcanic flutters
capture the eye of all onlookers

many times I danced around the Glast festival
and I travelled in a van living
but in the end when reality set
I knew I had to make for the North Isles
a sustaining freedom where the Stone Circle of Stenness
Is a place to lay your head whatever the season
And Stonehenge sits alone in its field
a forlorn rebuffed dancing circle ended

my finger-prints
where my hands have been
flexing their digits

many a crime-scene
de-crimed
by reason of ignorance

here our thumbs
separate us
from monkeys

In a world full of fact and numbers
you are exceptionally unaccountable
a vision in the mind of an engineer
who had the wherewithal to create
not just one Human but billions.

vulnerability is practised
each night sleep takes over

you are not in control of your dreams
and the body is on tick over

yet you always manage to escape
the clutches of your nightmares

yes you practise vulnerability
each night sleep takes over

Life pumps through mind spaces
Blood animating flesh and
Mankinds steps and
lost footsteps all over the World
and the ****** Moon
bears scars of spacemans boots
left with the garbage
mixing with all pouring fragile
consuming  heartbeats.

the ballerinas are sleeping
while the show must go on
the stage keeps on turning
awaking ballerinas across the world

its the time for cutting and harvesting silage.
shearing of sheep.
busy time of hard work;
pairing down poems

choosing the hands that catch you-
as you slip out the womb-world
is way beyond the control of all babies.
The best one could hope for is warm rather than cold.

dead of night
soon be sunup
providence plays
her game
hide and seek
hide and seek
hide and seek

The tongues of the poor are silent
their bellies do most of the talking
the backs of the downtrodden break
a thousand times each day they snap
bullets fly in every direction, even upwards
celebrating some kind of victory
the whole wide world watches a TV screen
as they get thinner, wider, more HD
we can now see spots and dimples more clearly
on all the faces of killing projectiles and casualties.

what a lovely surprise to find
most folk are good hearted
and even more startling to find
you are not so bad yourself

The Earth is the most romantic restaurant in the known Universe
Its the only place we know of
to book a table and entertain love

here, cows give up their milk
a small island economy
works well

the place I was born
and mother breast fed
farmers are suffering

suffering so much
from the pathetic price
supermarkets pay for milk

now on the national news
farmers are walking their cows
through the isles of supermarkets

and just maybe
maybe
fairness will win

Birthdays come
a celebration of your birth
so keep on celebrating
while your still around

On the cusp of tomorrow
the choices of today
make for memories

cant see the road ahead
best pullover
enjoy a picnic

theres a quiet place in this town
goes by the name,
'Cemetery'

Evening gathering all singing of their day at sea
sharing stories of plenty or fast
the abundance of fish or lack thereof

Seagulls at their roosting resting place on the shore
no cliffs close by
the beach good enough

Faith written into the DNA
brothers and sisters simpler lives
Trees Flowers Birds Animals

Direct permanent access to God
their faith never waivers
The children of God

I learned to swim in the womb
when the pool emptied
I followed the waterfall

Its the squeeze, the wall builders
who would have you defined, boxed
wrapped in a pink bow, more often,
handcuffs or chains
when you refuse to conform.

cant take anymore
blood lust
sickened
to be part
all this
dominion
of man
What good
will overcome?

Green and Brown
******* our
landscape:
We enjoy:
the *******.

our nakedness is the beauty of the Universe
our bodies are beautiful
we bestow beauty all our own unique

Poppies about to burst
Red as blood
There just outside my visual
a bottle uncorked
glass is filled
and ******* bears its fruit

never thought to see an advert for black magic
here on hello poetry

are they really a shaman
witchdoctor

or is it another tiresome scam
another tiresome scam

tiresome scam

emotional intelligence
ignore
and then regret

communication
does
exist

Summer has bloomed.
Carried on the horse of a Viking god.
Drying fields, food for cattle,
and men. Working feverishly
to bring the harvest in. All now is
golden as the Summer Sun runs
valiant across the skies. The barley
corn will fill the whiskey vats full.
Full for the drinking the long dark winter
through the black of days and black of nights
in the feasting halls of men and gods the golden Sun will stay.

Flat as a painting and unmoving the sky lays over us
sits on the far horizons all points of the compass
we wait for the Moons spectacle in complete stillness
Pagan and Christian, Jew and Muslim, all religions and none.
Poet and scientist, astrologer and astrologist, werewolves and freaks.
The Moon shines without discrimination, while lovers wait with bated breath .

the pumpkin turned into a coach
the mice into white horses
cinders into a princess

still accepting good outcomes
and forever picking up shoes
belonging to my sisters

if I said I like the pheromones emanating from your lips
its me trying to be geeky poet
after a geeky kiss

we must be living on opposite sides of the galaxy
I can see you are a bi-ped
what more can a spider say?

sedately walks the cats
home from their hunting;
the neighbourhood terrors

Today I hum to your song

I cannot help

but join in

coins are flipped
at a giddying rate
constant
unrelenting
firing minds
electric brains
heads or tails
decisions