No, please, not again,
Not the ******* Block,
Think I’m about to cry,
A grown man, weeping,
So unreal, sad, even.

An occupational hazard,
Finding the Block, lurking,
The unforgiving, ******* Block,
Visited by all worth their salt,
Dreaded by writers, loathed.

An empty well, bone dry,
The Block, mocking, malicious,
Laughing in the shadows,
Shifting within deeper shadows,
Growing, so very strong.

It cannot be mastered,
Not now, not ever,
Now you know it exists,
Grasp the pen, tap keys,
You must fight!

Ignore the jeering,
Conquer fears first;
Then, try writing, just write,
Summon courage, dry your eyes,
Then slay the ******* Block.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Sauntering casually,
jostled by shoppers,
teatime bargain hunters;
curses of common folk
ringing in my ears,
out of tune with
the cries of the traders.
Two for one here!
I say, two for one here!

Embattled in the
throng of a slow
moving crowd, shoulders
heaving, swaying to an
inaudible beat.  Tired
faces marking time,
quelling inner frustration.
Get a move on!
Please, just get a move on.

Now it’s raining,
incessant needles
prickle my face.
Suspended water droplets
dangle from striped
awnings, reflecting
trapped, busy, images.
Caught in a moment.
Spattered, in a moment.

Then I see her,
the fruit-stall girl,
her words and gestures
touch me like music
rippling over my skin.
Secret caressing fingers,
bringing me to life.
She doesn’t see me.
No: she doesn’t ever see me.

I’m almost mesmerised,
by the light catching
the white curve of
her neck.  Her hair,
like spun gold, dancing
on her ruffled collar as
she serves with a smile.
Your change sir.
Don’t forget your change sir!

I turned for home,
head bowed, shoulders
stooped; no crowded bus
for me with standing
room only.  A slow
solitary walk, past
dark, dripping gardens.
Her face for company, how
strange: her face, for company.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Walking in our garden,
sun sailing across the sky,
I saw a tiny winged-girl,
from the corner of my eye.

She flew down off the wall,
but did not try to hide.
“Hello there,” I said to her.
“Good morning,” she replied.

“Do children visit here,
I so love to see them play?”
“Yes they do,” I told her, as
she danced and hopped away.

“Then I will return,” she sang,
her tiny voice sweetly shrill.
Then flew into our willow tree,
I think she lives there still.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Through time,
Stars continue to illuminate,
Billions of miles,
Long, long after death:
R.I.P Nelson Mandela.

Cat black the wizard’s hat,
Marc Bolan did his thing,
A Jingle-jangle morning,
Bob Dylan’s posy ring.
Sunshine walking, yep,
Eddy Grant, whoop it up,
While Marley jammy-jams,
Herbal tea, oh do let us sup.
Rolling in the long grass,
Naked limbs having fun,
Much frolicking and kissing,
Laughter soaks up the sun.
Pleasure aches inside us,
Little scraps of pale blue,
Not flowers, ah, butterflies,
Diamonds made of dew.
So subtle in the long grass,
Loving: a delicious snack,
Drink each other for dinner,
Cat black the wizard’s back.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Sometimes,
Scars do heal,
Though they leave a mark,
It can be invisible,
But often, tis indelible,
Especially mental scarring,
And, Time, our constant companion,
Heals absolutely nothing,
They tell you it does,
Those who think they know,
Who think they feel your pain,
Who think they understand,
But in fact, grasp nothing,
Not one iota of the agony,
Not a single scrap of hurt,
Yes, they think Time does wonders,
But it doesn't, and they know it,
As you know it, as I know it,
It just lessens the pain,
Eases the burden,
It does offer hope, though,
This companion, offers a chance,
But one has to fight,
One has to struggle,
Rise up from the Dark,
Scream and rage at injustice,
Welcome Light onto one’s face,
Feel the warmth, love it,
Loving is the key,
And acceptance, just accept,
This life, this one life,
It may change, yes, maybe,
Change does happen,
Can really happen,
Sometimes.

© Paul Chafer 2014

The world’s, most
Wise unicorn,
Is known as
Falling Snow.
Lizzy rides
Upon her back,
The world passes
By below.
The night wind
Flows freely,
Through Lizzy’s
Unruly hair,
Holding tight to
Falling Snow,
A friendship made
To share.
See them leap
Through clouds,
Star shine guides
Their flight,
Sleeping safely with
Falling Snow,
Lizzy dreams,
Away, the night.

© Paul Chafer 2014