As the words became full cycle
tendrils became benthic
an extraordinary Work.

Questions  cluster like  rain clouds,
it's often easier  to hide under autumns anonymity,
and sling this old  life into recluse.
Yet how could I slip away
and  honestly believe there was a reason?
What if the promise of tomorrow was marshalled today?
to be offered flourishing hope,
only by renewal does one  give,
unless  my heart  is snagged
it  comes back  to changes.

Civil servants
caustic charms.
Forever Old School
Duplex stairways.

You're naive
like a chiselled wood cut,
worse still you're all alone
the rage has worn through,
autumn shades flicker
eyesore,
you rub your occasional disbelief,
childlike glances dim further
the available light
retorting again.

Theres a victim acting
only in her curves has she sufficed.
The wrong man with fists
his avowed promise
you couldn't live without him,
despite being the third  party
th­e other woman you remain -
so across the Atlantic
barricading your dreams
acting for the first time with perfection
but the baggage  returns
the beaten path,
your  bed of self  destruction.

An answer is seldom as long as the day,
vaguer than a whistle stop
we gathered pace
recalling that question
we thought as clever,
those fledgling time lags
have since prolonged
the prodigal quest.

Frowning realities in rogue light
finds  morning gated in fields of confines
I try epiphanies but the Moon
laughs at the opaque senselessness

Sitting pretty Thelma answered
because she was thirsty,
the mildew in the bathroom
reminded her cold air snagged,
random thoughts of the hunting sea grasses
quickened the wish to be free,
a clear voice set in motion
this captive flow .

Thesaurus m-real
how do I complete ?
Cassell  blinks through his A-Z
and ruminate an hour more.
I'm permanently stuck inside plain foolscap
whilst lexicographers twitter,
now assuredly  crimson
shred my make Believe traces.

(The poem is about the mayhem of inventing a non existent word)

The corridors order chaos,
dank and dismal
he alone is free
only the sound of a shrill clap
reminds him the walls are duly served.
Some murmur to feel safe
in the soft tissues of paradox,
where the wise listen to lost sages
whose advice can exonerate
any fevered hatch.

Shadows over  the moon -
sickles jangle towards  my feet.
Even too  much  glue cannot  be  washed away.
Profuse,  there’s  no coolness,
when the  wicker  Woman has  shorn  you
of  your  inner  sense.
Even her  poetry  was  mercurial
and  the worst is
the fallout  is  inevitable.

beneath the dying trees
we kicked our unlettered sins to touch
and blushed as shamelessly as we laid
our inglorious resignation,
for our ashes required a stoke
to unkindle others wantoness

I am so weak, who should be blamed?
unless my cry was deserving.
The fairest  wind languishes
and still pick her spoils far deeper,
more injurious than moribund life.
This jaded ideal, sprang from the tyrants pass
this  earnest clanging,  this inarticulation.

A seemless trail
plays to the audience
undressed could tomorrow
even wipe your brow ?

Pious black ladders
scatter young twigs beneath,
a dose of Q and A
kills all known conversation.
The kids in the back hall
score vermin
a dose of Strychnine
lauders still.
To undo this burning energy
the lay- bys
strenuously breaks into laughter

I have harnessed a gold star, quite by chance
but its paltry in its achievement,
mea culpa and the expected rest,
please no aspersions
upgrading is now unsourced.

The home of impressionnists
skirts the perinent point.
Jagged sarecrows dance amongst silhouettes
fields scoff in ribboned light
moves  banks from their justled perch.
I sense something wrong
bravados movement always sways,
yet wider strokes almost monumental
allow the grey to merge into the  still night..

He feigned the Wolves trail
having bathed in country ponds
Tangles and cold fleet,
flowed the scene.
Buoyed by this voyage
he proceeded to chortle,
by shaming the stunned Rainbow
The glow of  Midnight incalculable.

She travelled from London to Weedon
if only for a day she promised to be
someone of importance,
by burning bridges.
Espying the gentry by learning subterfuge
the romance of the veil,
observing the roses by feel.

Night Bus have I your absolution ?
effaced by those strewn winds
departing from your axis point
in future, I seek holier than thou detours.

The lotus fields charge
misbegotten fortune,
your whisper on this cold night
steers towards the dark pavilion
the one you left for, three years ago.
I could never hail your return
weeping alone would bestow order,
a  long stare circles myriads of thoughts.

I used to pass the ammunition and praise the Lord etc.
There's a debate
on the pros and cons
of my newly acquired Hi Power,
Gerald rejects my
high flung stance,
he seeks closure
but Browning rejoices
one step further,
when there's a lull
being respected
by the chasm of a gun,
the morning dew shimmering

As a stranger, sometimes light
both rarified and prosaic.
voyages to new shores,
yet I do not understand your  words
Is friendship a state of mind ?
still you call those who don't, select.

"Dear Apres",  I wrote these words after
your countenance bejeweled
with snow melting in your mouth -
assuredly hunters dream too.

A blush of rouge in July
the sway of Lady's fingers
who do you otherwise spurn,
are there any more wishes
you could christen
over and beyond the neck of mountains,
you had your flings -
entertaining gapes
mustering mouths,
spreadeagle
shinning with the fields
a touche of July

I used to project cobwebs
much as I had gelatin laces
laced  in circular jars

An Open hearth can never console the feelings inside
Those Northern Cerulean skies tarry
but I pick myself up when I listen
to the forgotten silence
between hoping your words
carries invitation.

In the wilderness
I had often thought of  cardboard boxes,
bitter tears may have coated
these my feelings,
but breaking out is such a  forlorn hope.
The  prevailing regimen uncouples my spirit
and no wiser
is a  mending heart  than the crestfallen?

She came unburdened
with gentle meadowsweet
drifting amongst the arbour
the paeans noted.

The train compartment is not unlike a denist's waiting room,
some people you instinctively warm to, like a winning  smile
others you want to yank
like some milk tooth attached to the  door.
but what do I know?
aggression and fatigue
same bed fellows
from the side panel
of subterfuge.

EFFECT and cause
recalling that motionless gust,
surface to air fails .
what about you?
dormant  before roused.

Ad nauseum, a kick to the head.

Verdant comforts,
cleomes and dalhias,
walks by  cobbled paths
Artists and their pedestals
incapsulating these vistas,
therein lays the beauty
we all knew inherent
in each and every of our  dawn risings

No sound, no affirmation
we are treading splinters
thumbing a pile of yellowing books.
Ash shaken
so we emerge
resolution at the knell.
Moorhens then flew from the eaves
a blessing in disguise.

Ailsa Craig, Ailsa Craig. Ailsa Craig
Why can't  I have you instead of
Kelsea,Kelsea,Kelsea,
what a favorite of the showbench.
Give me Leak the Lyon anytime
in favour of Pendle Improved.
Onions are for eating,
flavour is more important
to hell who wins on the show day.

The  longing  to  compete  up a  one way street,
foolhardy if the  confidence is lost
But  inherent  is  this wish
to  be  better than  thou.
My  sageful  advice may  fall on  cloth  ears
having  run its course,
being an ensemble  of  sorts.
The  mighty  brevity  will surely  decline
with  the  passing  of  time
perhaps  long  after­ these ideals

Just enough thread to hang yourself
an itch that lasted the mischief,
the justice of a blank stare
gives through.

If I contemplate a Rose
redolent Rosa Moyesii blooms
come to mind
yet  the merest thought  of  snaffled hips
would snag
all thoughts of morality
and I would course
to live life as honest
as the gladness
I had pricked out.

The lost Sun dial bears no shadows
bramble is its crown
plinth weathered

I wonder how far his shadow crosses
the stop line?
to rev it up a beat
in high Parenthesis,
further than the dirt tracks
towards the flinted road,
indeed to be freer than that.

she walked beyond
fearing the last creature
by her shadow,
supple palms - she forgotten
what had caused
her denizen to perceive
more than what was allowed.

I will coil round the Oak and whisper congruity
faster than you can draw breath,
your cochlear will hear
this fulfilment,
long before it is spoken.

all she gives is second place,
but does hungrier make you better?
her cheek bones porcelain,
like contemplation,
without frontiers.
oh to be a truculent fork.

Tate and Lyle, Mrs Beeton
and now attitude.

A winter simpleton
haunched wind free
brash the toiling pressures.

It's late in the day
standing by, Awareness drifts by
like stones carried in shoes.
Comments too few, to carry conviction
walks in sand  like a neon thought,
relics of crystallised leaves parade
an eerie silence that dealt time.
Only fortuitous believers became others
that sleep ordinary in this path.