It’s an early hour
At least for me.
I’m half asleep yet full of thought.
As if my brain has churned through everything
Throughout the night
And come up with
Some answers.

This happens often
So poems and things emerge
At times like this.

It’s cool and calm right now.
I love this peaceful, early morning time:
No birdsong even.
Yet a pigeon and sparrow on my back lawn.
No sound of cars
Or any of the hustle and bustle
Of a working day.

So serene and soothing to my soul.
Safe as though I’ve hidden
Under the floorboards
Away from the sun’s hot glare
And the turbulence
Of Life.

I suppose I’m mindful now
Of all around me
As I meditate
About nothing in particular.

Even a little spider in my diary this morning
Has not disturbed this serene feeling,
This atmosphere of calm.
Carbon dioxide cools this room.
Ah, wrong kind of atmosphere!
I speak (inside my head) of more soulful emotion
As I said
But I’d better be careful
That I don’t fall back to sleep
Laid back here
In my comfy armchair…

Paul Butters

© PB 16\6\2018.

If you will indulge me, a Story for you:

"Ending"

I’m safely tucked up in bed now. So frail. When I think how fat I used to be. But I’m very, very old. Might even die tonight, in my sleep. Can hear the wind howling outside.
It’s not such a bad place this. The carers look after me well. If I’m lucky they will wheel me into the garden again tomorrow. Hope that wind dies down and the sun shines. Where am I? Can’t recall the name. This Dim Enta thing. So tired now. So tired…
“And wake!”
What? Where am I? On my back! Ceiling. Face! Doctor Sanders!”
“It’s over, Krol, welcome back.”
I remember. Doctor Sanders. I’ve been hypnotised, regressed to a former life. Lived that whole life! And now I’m awake!
Me: “Did I just die there?”
Dr. Sanders: “Yes Krol, in your sleep. Or at least the person you were died in his sleep… But did you get the full life experience this time?”
Me: “Just about, Bob. I can remember back to being about three. My parents, our little dog, a baby sister. Playing with a wooden train or something that you could ride in. But it seems I died in my sleep…”
Bob: “How far back in time was this?”
Me: “I was born mid-twentieth century, not long after the Second World War…”
Bob: “Fascinating. Better get you into Debriefing, before you forget it all.”
Me: “Yeah. It sure was a long life. Lots of history for you. I can’t get over that that was me!”
Bob: “You’ll soon adjust, Krol.”
Me: “That Death thing was scary, Bob. I was afraid of ‘dying’, as they called it, for most of my life. Thank goodness we found a cure.”
Bob: “Yes Krol, things were really rough back then. But come on, let’s get that report of yours done…”

Paul Butters

© PB 13\6\2018.

Busy humble bumble bees buzz and hum amongst my geraniums.
I squeeze past them as they hover
From flower to flower,
On my way into my electric blue
Kia Rio car.

At last the sun is out here,
Brightening up my garden vista.
Most days we have wallowed
Under a sea fret,
Feeling cold and damp
And annoyed
By news of record high-temperatures
Inland.

But now it’s warm and sunny,
With Red Admiral butterflies
And my back-garden Abelia Shrub –
“Beauty Bush or Pink Cloud” –
Bedecked with light pink flowers
With their subtle aroma.

My days of sport have gone well
And I can sit back in my armchair
And relax.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\6\2018.

Oh God, whoever and wherever you are,
Do you really want me
To sit and wait for your son Jesus to save me?
Do you want me to just bow down
Before You
In supplication
And leave everything to you?
I think not.

For We are your infantry
If you will
And we are here
To kick the a* of Evil
And make things work
Throughout this Creation of yours.

I’m sure you want us
To be self-reliant
Creative and inventive.
For You have Delegated much
Of Your Work
To Us.
Which is why
We were Created.

So to sit back
And wait for Salvation
From You
Is not
What You
Are looking for.
I’m sure of that.

So let us Believe
In Ourselves
To Achieve
Whatever is required
To make the world
A better place.

We can make God
So proud of us
As His creation
If only we get up
Off our backsides
And show Him – or Her – or Both
What We can do.

Paul Butters

© PB 22\5\2018.

Rise up with passion,
Rise up with joy.
Rise up with Love
That can never cloy.

Keep rising
Way beyond the stars:
Much further than Venus,
Well past Mars.

For Life is a Wonder,
Only lived once.
Don’t ever waste it,
Don’t be a dunce.

Let inspiration guide you
Way beyond this realm
From the shortest grass
To the tallest elm.

So Love all Life
Is What I Say
Be kind to everyone:
Try to make their day.

Show every mercy
Whenever you can
Respect all others
Woman or man.

Every Life is a freak of chance,
So play the music,
Begin the dance.

Paul Butters

© PB 21\5\2018.

Deep within the spacial abyss that is my brain
There lies a little blue planet called “Paul”.
Hidden away from most of reality
This world is full of wondrous dreams.

Its drifting continents are full of sporting arenas,
Traditional pubs and inns
And swarms of gorgeous women.
Lofty mountains overlook sandy beaches
Fringed by sun kissed palms.
Endless vistas of hill and dale
Teeming with Life.

There is a Dark Side too:
I have my “Mordor” for sure
And my own Sauron.
Who doesn’t?
Lands full of man eating wasps
Fearful ghouls and witches
And torture chambers
Full of dental equipment.
Giant eyes
And Mirrors
Which take on a life
Of their own.

But let’s focus on the Brightness here:
The music and poetry
And even dance
And romance!
A place where we can “Get Around”
To Beach Boys harmonies,
Rock to Chuck Berry
And enjoy whatever delights Carlsberg can conjure up,
If not a pint of “*****’s Beer”
From Cleethorpes.

Paul Butters

© PB 10\5\2018.