Evening will come, however determined the late afternoon,
Limes and oaks in their last green flush, pearled in September mist.
I have conjured a lily to light these hours, a token of thanks,
Zones and auras of soft glare framing the brilliant globes.
A promise made and kept for life - that was your gift -
Because of which, here is a gift in return, glovewort to some,
Each shining bonnet guarded by stern lance-like leaves.
The country loaded its whole self into your slender hands,
Hands that can rest, now, relieved of a century's weight.

Evening has come. Rain on the black lochs and dark Munros.
Lily of the Valley, a namesake almost, a favourite flower
Interlaced with your famous bouquets, the restrained
Zeal and forceful grace of its lanterns, each inflorescence
A silent bell disguising a singular voice. A blurred new day
Breaks uncrowned on remote peaks and public parks, and
Everything turns on these luminous petals and deep roots,
This lily that thrives between spire and tree, whose brightness
Holds and glows beyond the life and border of its bloom.

we've reached the very lowest point
it can't get any worse
so said the pundits in one voice
as if reciting verse

in unison they'd decried
the state of current affairs
now in hindsight admit they'd lied
but nobody anymore cares

for down the slide of despair
falls humanity all together,
panting polluted, poisoned air,
corruption of the weather

each step seemed the worst
but the dam had not yet burst
now the world is d* accursed
too late to press reverse

common man is powerless
to change our history's course
in face of political cowardice
and greed and avarice

blind to truth, blind to nature,
elected idiots of legislature,
titivate daily 'fore [or for] the mirror
deaf to all but their own ear

too late we've realised it's up to us
can't rely on the tin-gods
Not Boris Johnson nor Lizzy Truss
nor all the other despots

it can't get any worse
said the pundits in one voice
then they pushed Lizzy Truss
said, "you've got no choice"

is it any wonder
we've yielded to despair
time to buckle-under
close eyes and stop to care

yesterday i saw a guy
looked all human too,
facsimile of you and I,
had learnt a thing or two

but his soul had gone away
left him rotting through
outside, sure, he looked okay
inside was askew

for morality had doffed its hat
waived to him at gate
now for years his heart closed shut
his god obliterate

and as the massive star collapsed
creating blackest void
the evil grew and grew and waxed
till ethics all destroyed

i saw a guy yesterday
not at all like you
typical of the modern sway
unbridled lust worldview

now the centre of society
is all-******* hole
it laughs loud at plain propriety,
it's ******* in the whole

gone the love for modest dress
all respect for chastity
all eyes are on the tv press
creating their own gravity

"we want new, we're educated,
chuck all ethics down the spout,
we'll see ourselves vindicated
as the truth will out"

the guy i saw yesterday
he looked like you or me
but today the rot and decay
are all that's left to see

there is a place where Love sings
without being heard
where Love rises and Love falls
like the wings of a bird

it's a place of silent whisper
talks without a voice
a place where G-d and sister
for eternity rejoice

a place that laps
like the sea o'er land
a place that claps
with a single hand

but surrounding that space is tumultuous wind,
blows hither and thither, in voice that you sinned,
knocks against hard, unyielding earth
empty words echo 'gainst raging mirth

but with constant commitment we'll crack the hard shell
conciliate G-d's sister to the outer brass bell
then, sweetest music, together, will tell,
as angels bend ear to the light in soft knell

JACK FROST'S OVERTIME


Jack gave the air a biting chill
the ground a thin white shroud
while icy mist curled in tendrils
and swathed his form in clouds

then puddles turned to milky glass
his breath, it's said, could freeze
the paths he makes a risk to pass
and skeletons from trees

on TV news this work he’d do
was clearly advertised
as weather maps from green to blue
were reacclimatised

all signs of warmth Jack Frost suppressed
with every step he’d take
each living soul he met he pressed
to shiver and to shake

all thumbs would then succumb to numb
and feet were primed to slip
like taps he made their noses run
and tremble would each lip

but soon enough the rising sun
would make it’s presence felt
then Jack would yawn, his work all done
and back to bed he’d melt

but that was then and this is now
his tenure will not cease
the price of gas will now allow
his hours to increase

not one to shirk the extra work
thanks to this corporate crime
these costs berserk present a perk
for Jack in overtime

he'll rap the door of old and poor
once their heat is denied
and freeze for sure to chair or floor
whoever lives inside.