A dusty shelf made of wood
That reaches way up high
Lined with every kind of book
Collected as years went by
Stories written to entertain
To swell the beating heart
To inspire the complacent
To create a change
Or make a fresh new start
Magical stories of fantasy fiction
Biographies and poetic prose
Classic tales by Charles Dickens
Filling up all of the rows
But one sits on a cluttered desk
About the mysteries of Heaven
Set apart from the rest
Opened to page seven

How to paint the wind?

A distant cry,
the wave of a willow?

The vortex of void,
silencing pain?

The bliss of a breeze,
the fairy touch of hope?

The scent of destruction?
An adventurous flavour?

Ah...!

The swallows are dying
in the redness of leaves.

I'm flippant with
My fictional facts;
Patching words
Like a coverlet,
Designed with loom and needle.
I've stitched the lines,
Woven the words
To make them more credible.
But it's only a poem
To strike at the bone,
A source of strength
Who's vigor's unknown.
A garment to wear
With invisible seams:
Wrap it 'round you
If you choose to dream.

there was a
dream here
once,
it came in
        via the
rain,
fed crops,
     livestock, us,
but at dawn it
had gone,
    taken the
bus to
somewhere
it could belong,
somewhere
         made of
sturdier stuff.
I imagine
     it rolling itself
up into
             the dust,
         coating the
backs of tongues,
speaking a
        language so
different to my
own, I imagine
it finally feels
like home.

Rejoice at Morning’s Miracle,
For We are here again.
The Grim Reaper
Has let us live another day.

God’s Grandeur shines upon us
As, again, the clichéd golden sun
Pokes her head through the Eastern clouds.

An orchestra of chiming birds
Greets the day
As again I say
Rejoice!
I repeat: Rejoice.

Time to check the temperature outside
And scatter some wild birdseed.
Time for breakfast
And the early news.

Time to have a pub-lunch,
Then a game of tennis
Or table tennis
Or snooker.

Morning’s time to meet my Muse,
And listen to her lyrical tunes.
To get composing,
No more dozing:
Broadcasting words
Throughout The Milky Way.

Enjoying the day
I look forward to
Some cloudless skies
So I can sit
And watch the stars.

Paul Butters