Lady Autumn, in russet hues,
'Neath urban shawl, in shadows fold,
Her soft breath, a poet's muse,
Silk whispers scribing saffron gold.

Skin aglow, with burnt flushed cheeks,
She fulminates 'gainst dying sun,
Skies that smolder in crimson streaks,
Her voice, the wind's lamenting hum,

To every leaf a eulogy,
Tribute to its murmured secret,
Once a part of Symphony,
Now tumbles to a tyre's rut.

Soft the pavements tread her cloak,
In alleyways, in quietude,
Drapes from willow and chestnut oaks,
Now silhouette of awkward ****,

In amber light, in frozen grasp,
As frost begins its creep,
As Autumn yields to Winter's clasp,
As world succumbs to sleep.

'Cross sombre fields, as shadows softly creep,
And fingers' twilight hush the world,
An addlepated wanderer, his mind asleep,
Ambles o'er a gaia upcurl'd.

In winding paths, 'mongst ancient oaks,
Midst fragrant pines and needles,
A maze of tangled thoughts of jokes,
Of tricks and jibes and wheedles,

Finds solace in solitude,
A quiet of golden hues,
And soft aside a slumbering brood
'Neath Diana's glows diffuse

Sighs beneath the weight of life
unpacks his heart's despair,
and closes eyes to whirl of strife,
To breathe the peaceful air.

Twilight where the shadows blend,
Beneath the veil of time,
Where thousand lives their journey end,
And start eternal climb.

worn and free, in silver mist,
An essence wends its way,
through memories of the chances missed,
through plans that now decay.

As dreams and whispers from the past,
Block path, elusive flight,
'Mongst fragments of the broken hearts,
Seeps wraith of fulgent light.

A relic of truth of bygone day,
Good deed that was not lost,
Frail and thin, it shines its ray
And bears the spirit aloft.

"Where does He dwell?", sing the angels
"Where's His abode?", their refrain,
between the lips of heart's beseech
Beatific's Light's contain'd.

Between the woods and frozen lake, a winter's chill,
A white blanched silence blankets dale and hill,
In crystal frost, diverse potpourri of nature's twill,
All still, in whispered breath of Divine Will.

On greenest bank where daffodils sway,
where bluebells awe the senses,
where field-thrush with blackbirds play
beneath the hawthorn fences

On dewy grass of early May,
Of verdant meadow breezes,
Beneath the oak, the wooers lay,
Where nature's love appeases.

I heard the murmur of a stream,
cool brook of crystal waters,
that shimmered as an alpine gleam
a sun with million daughters

It said it promised to create
world new, rejuvenate,
With warmth and light embrace the soul
babe start on fresh new goal.

And though from far there came the roar
Of greed, of horror, of want for more,
of blood, of battle, of broken heart,
of lies, corruption, of untold hurt,

I lay back in that light's embrace
In dawn of newest world,
And let myself believe in Grace,
Of blessing to unfurl.

i lit one candle, then i lit two,
i lit another and I thought i was through,
but then a fourth popped up together with his brother,
then a sixth, and a seventh, and an eighth and another,
i said, "hello? are you a ninth light?
the menorah has eight, to light up the night,
where can i put you, where d'you fit in?"
said he, "i'm the servant, i'm the linchpin!
I'm the one who makes the others give light;
You won't hear about me, i keep out of sight,
down below, high above, i'm not of the eight,
but without me they're nothing, so don't underrate
the schlepper, the beadle, the one behind scenes,
we're the join in the seams to make life what it means.

he doff'd his cap, all suave and urbane,
i am the idol you serve in vain,
i am the recognition of people around,
ephemeral honour to which you are bound,
as you can see i'm nothing but air
it's all in your mind. I'm not really there.

he sat by himself
the man by the fire
sipping his wine
nursing his ire
thinking of those times, of the years gone by,
the children laughing, the jostle, the cry,
watching them grow, each in their fashion,
this one was gentle, this one with passion,
now they're gone as moonlight that flitters,
he's left with those thoughts, a memory that glitters,
the wars of love, of hurt and despair,
as he sips his red wine, alone in his chair.

If all the world were monochrome,
black and white like a funeral home,
layers of grey of different shades,
gloom and doom of deepest hades

if colour was something you read of in book,
an out-world experience of an LSD hook,
then all at once someone switched on the light
and wow what a difference before you in sight

how your spirits would lift as you looked round in wonder
at the greens and the mauves and the blues over yonder,
the bricks of the wall in shades of red coral,
the yellows and limes of the willow and laurel,
faces of scarlet, of softness of pink,
depth and complexity of a master craft's ink,
what a wonderful world that would be to be in,
aye --- a wonderful it is, to be in.

hah hah! human hate hackles,
laughter lunges long lacerators,
carves crucifying cutting crackles
covert cutthroat collaborators.

until when the falling petals
until when the drops of blood
until when the wasted essence
until uncurls new flowerbud

a drop of ink on parchment
lines spreading black on white
so the soul in flesh apartment
spreads its rays in black of night

my sister opened wide the curtains
trust a woman to be the first
ever since linger uncertain
a tendency formed at birth

in private world to be submerged
but yearning for the limelight
frightened of the unrehearsed
perverse desire shine up bright

now i'm seeing the curtains closing
i've had my chance to light the night,
chosen to be self-enclosing,
'stead of straight to shout what's right.

if i had a chance, would i do it better,
would i find the path of strength,
speak up clear without a fretter
walk the path of untold length?

now i find i'm losing hold,
head submerging in the water,
soon to lie in bed of cold,
world apart, universe un autre.

the robin was my friend
pecked me on my shoulder
watched me garden tend
perched upon the boulder

watched me as i tripped that day
running down the street
watched me as my heart ran gay
oblivious to the heat

watched me as the stars went out
turning life to grey
watched me wince from ache and gout
as night enveloped day

the robin is my friend
he pecks me on my shoulder
it's time to spread your wings to wend
stop getting any older

i carved my name into the wood
but the wood was rotten
within a year there was nothing left
save a memoir forgotten

There's a mystery beneath the ground,
beneath the rocks and singing brook,
a screaming of no sound,
sealed letters, an unread book.

G-d the soul You put in me is pure
planted in a grave it rattles cages
beats against the stifling lure
Deep within its crying rages.

sunrise taps the ground
rays tingle on my skin
warm the air around
fresh and palpitating

sunset in red sky
sunrays kiss goodbye
sinking into the sea
of dark and mystery

turning eyes within the self
dark black foreboding
but earth below, with pixie elf,
the frog, the slug, the toad-ring ...
nature helps to lift one's mood
to strive to break the mould,
nectariferous is G-d's sweet food -
There's light when all is told.

My dear compadre,
We've been through it all,
The trials and tribulations,
Laughter and tears.

You are my brother,
My ally and friend,
The one I can turn to
When the road seems to bend.

Our bond's unbreakable,
Our friendship like no other,
Ever grateful for you,
My dear compadre.

Through thick and thin,
Stood side by side,
Friendship's a beacon
In e'er-changing tide.

Honored to know you,
To call you my own,
My dear compadre,
Never alone.

there was an old temple of Thai
whose monks just wanted to get high
so they got hooked on meths
but were exposed through their breaths
so they all bid their temple good-bye

now off they all went to rehab
to cure them of the sniff and the jab
but their bright robes and habit
of the monks and their abbot
made the inmates think they'd gone mad

"we're seeing orange" they said to the quack,
who put down his bottle of Jack,
said he, rather tight,
"i think you are right,
but the bottle is better than crack".

ribbons 'n posies, royal salute,
guns and canons in chorus shoot

poppies to adorn the sleeping dead
o'er rocks 'n pebbles and bullets of lead

blood that splashes on chalk-white stones
on dusty granite and weary bones

death and silence drown the cries
as no-one hears as soldier dies

plastic posies, nugatory salute,
together, forever, canons shoot

i remember a more tranquil world,
of grassy hummocks and neat tamed lawns,
lazy clouds and flags unfurled,
upright backs 'midst hard-earned yawns

i remember a more tranquil beat
people cared how others fared
there was laughter in the street
there was joy as bread was shared

i remember a world relaxed
uncreased brows, a world untaxed,
tuppence bought a pint of beer
camaraderie and heart-felt cheer

in the bustle at the airports,
in the stations underground,
queuing, handing tickets, passports,
there were humans all around,

somehow feelings were more simple,
******, purer and untouched,
like the soft skin of a dimple
of the smile i miss so much.

yes, i remember a world serene
people cared how others fared,
there were smiles to be seen,
but now that scene has gone and been.

is my memory playing tricks
a child's impression of Lego bricks?
was the world a different place
or was it always a big rat-race?

or perhaps today there's still grace
behind the neons and plastic face,
scratch away the false surface
morals 'n manners will surface.

once i was alive
my heart had a beat
i felt my emotions,
i felt cold and heat

i heard the music in the ocean wave
the angels singing in the grass enclave
the mountains strumming with careless abandon
the honey-bees humming with the blooms in tandem

but now my heart is still like a stone,
eyes vacant like effigy, flesh turned to bone,
my ears are deaf, they hear no music,
save constant reminder from clock with death's tick.

Will e'er that wave be seen again,
royalty in the flesh,
duty coursing in blue blood vein,
eyes smiling, ever fresh?

did ever loyalty to a nation
better to its god coalesce
than in this woman of higher station,
impeccable manners and dress?

through constant batter from the press
through broadside and invective
never ever gave in to stress
never lost perspective

never bent before harasses
laconic maligning from guys 'n lasses
unkind comments from the masses
as they peered through vergrößern glasses

flagship to her people
a tower and a steeple
stood ramrod straight as maypole
shining love rays from a sun-soul

now the fluttering flag's at half-mast
as she's lowered into ground
as the thousands rally past
as her son is newly crowned

exponent of her christian faith,
substantive, positive hope
now pure essence, elusive wraith,
gone in swift elope

Never again will we see that wave,
so true and fast and pure.
for duty now waves from the grave
on stone for e'ermore.

Knock, knock! - 'WHO'S THERE?!',
{I fairly shouted, I do declare,
but then I cowered back, quivering in my chair
all a-shiver like a shawl o' prayer,
for there arose outta thin air
sepulchral aura everywhere,
from eyes blood-red, demonic glare,
to sallow skin and pasty hair,
a curious charisma that bade 'beware!'}

ooh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare
{here bowed he low with flourish and flair}
I've been sending you messages all through the year,
all winks 'n hints that I'm to appear,

{I'd have mustered strength then 'n there,
bellowed, "I adjure you, spirit of air,
be thee fiend, or phantom fair,
daytime vision or strange nightmare,
get thee hither to place elsewhere!", (- or "banish thee I to world nether!")
but dread demeanor 'n awesome stare
caught my tongue; I could not dare}

Come on, now, don't start to fret,
nothing's over - well, not quite yet!
{he masked a chuckle that gave me a turn,
then continued nonchalant with little concern}

hmm, you've been dilatory all your life,
i don't expect anything better now,
I've brought me tool, me carving-knife,
brandishing grandiose blade before my brow

{then in undertone I could scarcely hear,
whispered grinning into my ear,}
don't take offense, don't take umbrage,
all it takes is the slightest scritch!

'Wow, what a fine specimen, a work-of-art',
I said loudly, trying to sound smart,
'looks the epitome of a cutlass' blade.
Bet that can cut through man or shade!'

Why, of-course it can! in jaunty tone
death replied (with air of sensibility),
there's well nigh nowt that this can't own,
here held he it high for me to see

as off he went, waxing vociferous,
recounting tales o' strength so vigorous,
unending litany of victims passed,
until for breath paused he at last

well, the rest, say they, is history,
as i made rash grab for immutable edge
and, unabashed, lopped his belfry,
fell'd with one swoop, i do thee pledge!

'keep it real', he'd said
so i plunged the knife in deep.
not surprising, I ended up dead,
while others around did weep

so ended my carceral life
as shard of former self,
ground by constant strife
to fleck of dust on shelf

they wept, they cried,
they wrung their hands,
('such a pity he died,
we don't understand')

they shook their heads,
they wiped their eyes,
they wound red threads,
they looked sky-wise,

as for me,
hey! I'm free...

Melancholia!
there's magic in the word
like 'male-genitalia',
each syllable unslurred

and the term itself
what images it conjures!
as a mischievous elf
intent on misadventures

with a black, sticky net
'gainst crimson sunset
with sad secrets scary
to capture the unwary

on his face a grin
as he bows to you low,
"howdy, please step right in"
and oblivious, you go.

and then you are caught
as he draws the string tight
as you struggle for naught
as the day becomes night

as all outside becomes blurred
all syllables slurred
everything of one colour,
a dark, deathlike pallor

and then there's the sinking
as you can't stop the thinking
like repetitive gramophone
with monotonous undertone
over and over
it draws you in further,

to no appetite
complete lack of enjoyment,
to no respite
through own self-employment

feeling culpable
for nothing at all,
feel unlovable
as you stare at blank wall.

Melancholia.
What a beautiful word.

almighty father, almighty king,
heavens and earth are your thing
but here's the thing
hear me King

your children have well and truly messed up

you can hazard a guess
the world's a mess

as to why
well, there's a tongue-tie
i mean where do i start
there aint no flowchart
well, not for this!

drought and fires are the norm
let's not forget cyclone and storm
the unrelenting hurricanes
monsoon floods and murderous rains

then you've got the violence
ok, there's always been that
aye, and the mass riots
but not the rat-a-tat-tat
weapons to wreak world destruction
smallest child needs no introduction
every day 'nother calamity
natural and man-induced
men and women have lost their sanity
world's evil's come in to roost

so do we need help or what?