Storm clouds gather on Surrey hilltops
Shadowing the thatches along the street
He hurries his pace over the cobbles
To where she waiting on a pinewood seat
~
She touched his cheek with shy affection
Love lines traced with finger tips
Lifting her face for his attention
Tasting heaven on eager lips
~
He took her in his arms once more
Kissed her once- then twice
With arms embracing, hearts a’ racing
Touching the tip of paradise
~
Drum roll thunder split asunder
Skies torn with lightening chains
Nature blessed, then caressed
Their love with April rain

Interval
A release of conversation
Above me
Vivaldi lingers in the blue mushrooms
~
Theatre smell
Music dust in crushed burgundy
Climbing the stairways
To the halftime bars
~
I sip overpriced whiskey
Amid a peck of cheek kisses
Murmur of nothing talk
and the fog of stale Chanel
~
She stands by the window drapes
Isolated by timidity
I engage her
With the price of a smile
~
Elgar easy on the lifting strings
As the ****** casts it spell
Oblivious
To two empty seats.

In the patchwork land of green and gold
They walked where Chaucer’s tales were told
Cross the rambling rustic shires
To raise their eyes to the towering spires
From far flung lands across the sea
From Avalon and Linden Lea
~
Oh mother Church of England fair
In morning mass and evening prayer
Poets take up their pens and quills
And write of blue remembered hills
Ask is there honey still for tea
In Avalon and Linden Lea.

The springtime of love
When we played with life
Conjured sunlight in November
Wonder in suburbia
Shrunk the world to fit our dreams.
~
Now the winds of time
Pull in opposite directions
The gap, ever widening
The weevils of familiarity
Feeding on our union.
~
Nights of pretend passion
Stirring the embers
Going through the motions
Is there meaning in a kiss
Is there truth in a caress?
~
The lies I tell you
The lies that I tell myself
Will this play still run?
Or time to pull down the curtain
We seek the answer.
~
Between the silences.

Saddened mask of yesterdays make up
Tousled hair and shrunken veins
The tinselled high life long forgotten
In her world of constant pain
~
Selling her favours for a pittance
Placating a demon that never rests
Petty crimes, begging letters
Sunken beauty, sagging *******
~
Living with the beast within her
Ringing sweat from every pore
Demanding, pleading, ever feeding
That always open hungry maw
~
New Cross station Monday morning
Bored commuters, London rain
Poppy killed her screaming torment
Underneath the city train.

The Bowl, the Garden, I've played them all
Las Vegas in the September Fall
Caesars, Stardust, and the Sands
Obliging girls the one night stands
My face on all the magazines
Penthouse keys, stretch limousines
~
Still singing through my autumn years
Though the young don’t want to hear
My greying hair is touched with blue
I sing the old songs, nothing new
Though the voice is clear, the pitch still perfect
I’m booked to sing the granny circuit
~
But I’ll never quit the spotlight glare
Push me on in my old wheel chair
I’ll sing for a dollar or one thin dime
Strike up the band, just one more time
This ageing idol doesn't give a ****
So give me the intro, play it Sam.

Take my hand
We will walk the forgotten lanes
Made for iron shod hooves
In the footsteps where sandaled feet
Of the lost legions followed the eagle standard
~
But I see you grow weary of beauty
Of the counterpane fields of green and gold
Miss Marple villages, soft in the twilight
Then come, down to the Romney Marsh
Where time is in tune with your deepest fears
~
We’ll take the old road to the Burmarsh Chimes
By the ruined church of St Augustine, silvered by moonlight
Where communion wine and the Free Traders Brandy barrels
Once rested side by side united under the Lords protection
Where the tolling bell called the dead to evensong
~
There, by the east wall of the Lady Chapel
Tear washed sentinels lean against the west wind
Underneath the wild thyme and harebells
Lay the sad bones of the forgotten children
Come, this is not the place to linger
~
Safe home under the oak beams of the White Heart
Amid farming folk with the smell of the land on them
Setting the stage for beery nostalgia
Sit here by the warmth of the fireside
While I tell you tales of the Night Riders.

Stark on the Wilshire skyline
Lean the monoliths of mystery
Marshalled by the Heel Stone
Sentinels guard the secret
That mocks the mind of man
~
Huddles of academics
With puny trowels and theories
Probe the dusty chalk lands
Scratching for the key
That picks the lock of time
~
Come, you followers
In your robes of worship
Circle round the blue stones
As ghosts of the ancients
Dance in the Pagan fire.

Through the open window
The night breeze, urgent now
Rippling, persuading
The lace curtains
To join the dance
~
She turns again
Blends the ticking clock
To the drip of a distant tap
Into an uneven beat
To fit the discords of memories
~
She reaches out
Fingers the empty pillow
Recalls the tangle of hair
The ghost face softened
By half light
~
Where do you rest tonight?
My walk away darling
Does she trace the love lines?
Down, down as I once did
Tell me lover
~
Into the small hours
Known so well to the lonely
Passing headlights
Chase bedroom shadows
She closes her eyes
and swallows the pain.

Overture for beginners
Venus the night herald
Calls to the showgirls
One by one
~
The evening star
Conducts the chorus line
Galaxy dancing
To Pembury Hill
~
Shy Selena
Lifting her petticoats
Hints at her coming
With ribbons of silverlight
~
Walk with me lover
Where Juliet wandered
Down starlit byways
To the Burmarsh chimes
~
Then maybe in moonlight
To the notes of a nocturne
Selena and Chopin
Will smile on the world.

Bobbing umbrellas
Puddle jumping kids
Squeezing grass bubbles
Under foot
Crying chestnuts
Weeping willows
Pitter patter windows
Metronome wind screens
Grateful Daisies
~
Indifferent lovers
Uncaring cattle
Whinging oldsters
Happy gardeners
Brooding clouds
Counterpane heavy
Bequeathing succour
On tombstone lichen
Life clings to stony death
~
Pebble dashed ponds
Shiny pavements
Dripping gutters
Carton boats sail
Kerbstone rivers
To oblivion down
Gurgling drains
And green, green grow
England’s fields’

Leaving you
The weight of your happiness
Crushes me
My shoulders too thin
To bare the burden
~
Leaving you
And those downcast eyes
That signal disapproval
Your weeping, the last refuge
Calculated to the last tear drop
~
Leaving you
Who have snipped and shaped
My being to your fancy
Bestowed the gifts of favours
Weighed on the scales of necessity
~
Leaving you
My friends, no longer wait in line
For your stamp of approval
We can’t meet your expectations
You have bought faulty merchandise
~
Leaving you
Before the snare tightens
Before the trap snaps shut
Before resolve melts to water
Before love turns to hate
~
Leaving you.

A treasury of childhood memories
Forgotten in a pinewood box
Discovered on a rainy Sunday
Turn the key and time unlocks
~
My books, my old friends, lay before me
Restored once more to a loving hand
For cross-legged hours I turn the pages
Lost in a paper wonderland
~
The pirate ship her black flag flying
Stormy skies and salty rain
Trade winds fill the straining mainsails
A small boy sails the Spanish Main
~
Take me back to Smoky London
Baker Street buildings grimed with soot
Top hat Holmes, his coat tails flying
“Come Watson, hurry, the games afoot”
~
Plumed knights astride snow white horses
****** maidens with downcast eyes
Pooh sticks float on sleepy rivers
Under England’s smiling skies
~
Once again I tunnel the covers
Clandestine reading on a winter’s night
Sylvia Daisy Pouncer whispers
‘The wolves are running’ in the pale torchlight.

The barley fields
Paint the gentle hills
With August gold
Late summer ripe
~
From the stalk forest
The skylark is stirring
Freedom whispers
On the south wind
~
Soar my little one
On brave wings
Of liquid melody
Higher, higher
~
Beyond the clouds
To reach the ear of God
Who bends his head
and smiles at beauty.

That’s tough Day Tripper
Losing your Ticket to Ride
Now we have to take
The Long Winding Road
To Get Back to were you belong
~
Come on, Come on
No, I don’t want to Hold Your Hand
So you had A Hard Days Night
You’re a bit Here There and Everywhere
That was Yesterday, get over it
~
Here we are, Penny Lane
Hi Michelle, She’s Leaving Home
Wants to be A Paperback Writer
Yep; You’re Going to Lose That Girl
~
Eleanor Rigby she’s gone too
Where? Oh, somewhere Back in the USSR
HI! Lovely Rita. Ah, you know I gave her
All My Loving
Even let her Drive my Car
~
Hey Jude we’re home
Strawberry Fields Forever eh?
You know Something
You’re going Nowhere Man
But I am, Hello Goodbye.

She escapes a gaggle of trouser peacocks
Paying court with mirror practiced charms
And crosses Cherwell’s honeyed bridge
A Venus to grace the slow days of summer
Careless hair made for wind blow
Cheeks fashioned for candlelight
Eyes born for helpless surrender
Embrace.

How cool the woodland carpet feels
Under tender barefoot heels
Days of laughter, childhood rambles
Emerging from the leafy brambles
Over the stile and down the dell
Breathing the dark mushroomy smells
Sandra, Davy, me and Jill
Climb the ***** to Pendle Hill
~
Buttercup pollen on calf and shoe
Whisper grass still wet with dew
Up and down we ran and ran
"Catch me; catch me, if you can”
Cross-legged in the birch tree shade
Stolen apples, lemonade
The happy times I remember still
Of summertime on Pendle Hill
~
Tired from racing chasing games
We gather round the campfire flames
Tell the tales of pirates bold
Of sailing ships and Spanish gold
High above this fabled land
You snuggle close and take my hand
Safe and warm from twilights chill
First love bloomed on Pendle Hill.

Montmartre
The harlot on the hill
Her perfume
of garlic and Gaulloises
sour in the Sunday afternoon.
~
On the Rue Laitiere
A promenade of bustles
where, from under lace parasols
Working girls glances
Survey the field.
~
In the Moulin de la Galette
The thin man in a hurry
Eager at the canvass
Licks brush on palette
and gives Estelle her eyes.
~
From a third story window
Lissette leans on her elbows
Smiles at the sunlight
Sighs with the memory
of yesterday’s lover.

The leash undone and free to run
Leaping bounding paws a’ pounding,
Watch me master, faster, faster
Now I’m going for all I’m worth
Skimming over the paw sweet earth
~
Down, down the winding lane
To the jingling of my collar chain
Wriggling under the old farm gate
To freedom fields where joy awaits
Dewy grass and poppy flowers
Where I can run for hours and hours
~
Now at your feet, curled in rest
Snuggled warmth by fireside blessed
I lift my trusting eyes to you
Oh master if you only knew
And if my thoughts I could convey
The love I feel for you this day.

Look into that cold dismissive stare
Ribbons of past lives are lying there
Jade green eyes of mirrored mystery
Roll back the tumbling years of history
~
This perfumed fur you understand
Once lay beneath Cleopatra’s hand
Emeralds about my neck were hung
In happy days when I was young
~
A ships cat where I earned my bread
Stalking the vermin as they fled
Just to catch and not to eat
I laid them at my captain’s feet
~
The cottage where my mistress dwells
Dispelling curses, cackling spells
Across the starry heavens wide
We take a besom broomstick ride
~
You cared for me through my kitten days
And you worry so when I go astray
But when the full moon’s shining bright
I'm but a creature of the night.

I wish I could love you
Though I run scared
When attraction grows
and daydreams whisper
Of rings and things

I should feel easy in your arms
Not thoughts of capture
There is thrill in your kiss
Though the tug of freedom
is stronger

I wish I could love you
Surrender to your longing
Engage in your desires
But far horizons beckon
So maybe tomorrow.

For a small town girl
Alone in the sprawl of the creaking metropolis
She kept to the bustle of the hurrying crowd
Lacking the courage to explore
London’s surfeit of nooks and crannies
~
Where Dickens once walked the
Victorian cobbled alleys and beyond
Passed unnoticed by wide eyed tourists
Harried by their clip board minders
Mindful to keep to the tight schedule.
~
Long enough now for wonder to subside
With time to absorb the lessons to be learnt
By taking the bus over Westminster Bridge
To avoid the Tube’s rush hour crush of humanity
and the wandering hands of marauding touchy feelers
~
Friends are hard to find north of the Thames
Work time colleagues return home to suburbia
Leaving London to the empting streets
Feral cats emerge to scavenge the waste bins
While the bag lady beds down in a vacant doorway
~
In an Italian coffee house on the Lambeth embankment
She found a special place to sit and scribble
Where the customers provided flesh for her characters
Where Giovanni breaks into song when the trade slackens
and Amor di Pastorello is in tune with the lapping tide.