When I wrote it,
it was bad
the situation
made me sad,
but now
it's surely
out of hand
they've sold the future
and ***** the land
all to satisfy
the latest fad.

BLT you challenged me
You made me rhyme deliberately
When through the years my poetry
Was written quite spasmodically
A year apart or every day
It didn't matter either way.

It's time to groom
to spruce and smooth
to prink the plume
and prance and preen
to set the scene.

Where was your sense of compunction
as you held your stony faced head high?
What kind of messed up malfunction
gave you the right to let that man die?

Silence sits upon me
shouting loudly
no sounds of now
just echoes on the air.
Listen to the silence
and hear the cries
and sobs
and laughter
that are there.
A strain of far off music
or a song from long ago,
or just a drifting thought.
The air is full of sounds
for you to hear.
So listen very,very carefully
and you may hear
an answer to your prayer.

At the closing of the day
I lay me down to sleep
where Hypnos sends me drowsy
to the arms of Morpheus
and I fly
with the winged Hermes
to the land of dreams.

Take a snapshot of
this moment
this moment
is already the past.

The spirit wriggled free
And flew
And through
The memories it knew
It grew
Anew.

Earth woman
rises
from her Winter bed
breathing out new life
her children
****** and scrabble
through her crust
to grow and stretch
and live.
Her sun
shines down
his gentle warmth.
Her rain
to quench
their thirst.
And all around
they dance
and prance
and celebrate
their birth.

Spring has sprung
a neat surprise
with wall to wall
blue skies.
All the birds
have changed their tune
out come the
butterflies.
primrose peeping
through the grass
under the gentle sun
dandelion
as bold as brass
the cycle
has begun.

Blackberries ripening in the hedgerow
warn me of Winter drawing near
though the pleasure of Autumn
still to come
softens the blow of frost's cold cheer
and Summer's heat receding fast
more uncertain than Winter's blast.

The subtle certainty
Of a trap carefully laid
I never heard the word
Perpetrator
'Til I went to women's aid......

I look out of my window, what do I see
crows congregating, cawing at me.
Capricious by nature with their noisy behavior,
shouting, come quick! there's cake for our tea.

Isolation lock down
when going out feels like a crime
la longueur de journee
a tedious period of time.

The mad woman stands
long hair blowing in the wind
green eyes glowing in the moonlight
counting all the times she sinned.

black clouds hover overhead
shadows dancing all around her,
******* breath, she opens wide her mouth
and screams her knowledge to the ether.

Circles flash and spin like lightening
answering the pain she's feeling.
The old ones know her by her shadow
and gather closer so to follow.

"Don't tell me any more" she screams
"Don't burden me!"
But they whisper dark things in her ear
and burden her with prophesy.

I'll dance in the moonlight
at midnight
I'll dance 'til the dawn
on the lawn.
On through the sunrise
I'll shimmy
the earth's vibrations
carry me
on and on.
Through the day
I'll follow the sun
I'll dance along
'til the day is done.
The madman in the sky
pounds the beat
and pulls the strings
that move my feet.
On and on
through the sunset
on and on
and he won't let
won't let
go.

I dreamed a warning,long,slow and clear.
I woke in the morning,trembling with fear.
Great trees ,whose branches danced high in the sky,
bent low in the wind and kissed the ground.
And out of the silence the great noise of fear
the rushing of blood pounding in my ear.
The great wind rushed onward,it came from above
where no stars were shining and the moon had gone out.
The sky full of menace,yawned black and vast
and terror lurked from a terrible past.
In the wake of the wind a shower of sparks
unleashed through the sky from unknown parts.
The path of destruction glowed orange and black
as anguish howled and echoed back.

Released from the sun the planet flew
spinning faster and faster out of view.

Gentle wind touched my cheek
breathing softly.
Whispering caresses danced over me
rippling my hair
stroking my skin
lulling me.

I slept.

Gentle wind rolled me over
and over
fluttering , leaf like
rising and falling
billowing.

I dreamed.

I soared on the wings of elation
and touched,for a moment,
the soft tranquility of peace,
and in the silence of my mind
I felt a soft insistence
a silent probing
that touched my soul
and filled me with longing.

The edge of eternity lay before me
beckoning with shining eyes
and I undulated
gently
to and fro
reaching out with tendrils of myself.

Searching

The edge of perception
lay always out of reach
veiled in the mists of forgetfulness
flashing impressions
too vague to recognize
and remember

too long ago

I awoke.

The flowers are in mourning
for the gardener has gone
to tend the garden of the Lord.

The new day is dawning
the warm sun is rising
and the flowers think they're ignored.

But someone comes weeping
as the flowers they are gathering
that the gardener had so adored.

Bouquets they are making
they are not forsaking
the love that the gardener poured.

And the flowers are in mourning
as they lie on the coffin
of the gardener who's gone to the Lord.

Flickering firelight
danced attendance on my thoughts
wandering through the shadows.
Half remembered memories slide around
not quite caught,
hovering in the shadows.

A tunnel of darkness beckons me
toward the great white plain.
A glaring light too bright to see
a place where there's no pain.
A soul might float forever there
among the silent peace,
with mind spread wide upon the air
relaxing there with ease.
But life has not yet done with me
and calls me back again
to be where I'm supposed to be
to feel again the pain.

Flickering firelight
dances attendance on my thoughts
wandering through the shadows.
Half remembered memories slide around
not quite caught
hovering in the shadows.

They pass by slowly,hands held out
smiling eyed and greedy mouthed'
back up against the wall I plead
in tearful confusion--I can't pay.

and in the corners of my mind they stand
tight lipped,pale eyed.
wavering fingers point with scorn
and they whisper,whisper,whisper.

"Who is the guilty one ?" they say
"any less than I !" they cry
"and you !" their fingers point"can't pay!"
and they whisper,whisper,whisper.

The hungry sit in silent rows
the wailing old man baby grows
too weak to **** the empty breast
too weak to cry above the rest.

It's mother, old beyond her years,
her children drowning in her tears,
won't live to see another day
and why? well she can't pay.

They pass by slowly hands held out
hollow eyed and hungry mouthed
back up against the wall they plead
in tearful confusion -- they can't pay .

In our own space
we are everything
to the rest of the universe
we are nothing
null.

A lone kestrel circles slowly overhead
shrieking
as she scans the ground below.
The soughing wind gently scatters
Autumn's leaves
in a rush of bright colour,
as fingers of sunlight
stab
through the trees.

I close my eyes
breathing deeply.
I hear the wind
and the kestrel.
I open my eyes
and see the colour
where the sunlight falls
and the kestrel's drop
straight as an arrow.

Silence is the backdrop
the canvas
on which the sounds of life are painted
an anomaly
only heard
by the listening ear.

Out of hell they rise
to tempt us
with their wares
so cheap
and easy to acquire.
Demanding,in return,
their pound of flesh,
and we forget,so easily,
our Father,God,in Heaven
whose love we so desire
expecting in return
forgiveness.
Confused within this market place
of greed and vice and pain
circling,sinking
saved by thinking
of our God again.

Like a sleepwalker
she passed through each day.
Voices chattered in her head,
Snatches of conversations
That she could not quite catch.

She dropped like a stone through her emotions
And lay in silence on the bottom.

Battered and bruised
She ached at every turn,
Or floated softly among the shadows
Guarding her spirit.

It seemed she had passed
Through a threshold of pain
That held her on the edge,
Like the new born......
And the shadows nurtured her
Behind the veil of her own consciousness,
Waiting for the memory
To rise up into the light of her being.

When it came she was filled with fire,
Warming her as it spread
through her soul,
And she knew a new knowledge
That was older than she,
Older than her previous selves ,
Older than the Earth.
Slowly,she raised herself,
Taller than she'd ever been.

Filled with courage
she stepped out,
Over the edge,
And she joined all of her other selves,
Embracing them with open arms.
Sobbing,she acknowledged herself
As she flew with her shadows
Back through time,
Back to her beginning
From whence she had first set out
In the darkness of ignorance.

The light shone so brightly,
Drawing her own light towards it
In a spinning ****** so intense
That she let go of herself,
Separating into a million points
of light as she joined the pool.
Her lights bounced off each light
They touched in an ecstasy of greeting.

Looking back ,
Towards the edge,
She watched the shadows
Nod their satisfaction
Before they turned away,
Fading into the darkness that was the Earth.

Thwack !
The wiper swiped
The rain off.

Here she is,vivacious yet
despite the years of self neglect
She wears it well,she stood the test
she earned her badge of self respect.
Quiescent in her dormant state
the potential yaw she may create
she journeyed forth towards her fate
and the road remains the same.

It lurks in corners
when I pass by,
slowly,slowly,crawling.

It waits for me
behind the door,
gently,gently,laughing.


It tumbles down
out of the sky,
softly,softly,falling.

It rises up
out of the floor,
whispering, whispering,

come to me.

Oh, shadow,shadow
on the wall,
don't swallow me.

To be a conscious being,
being conscious
is important.

This Xmas night
I contemplate
the dying ember's glow
and dream of happy Xmas's
of childhood long ago.
The tinseled tree
I look at now
twinkles back at me
reminding me of magic times
my love rich family.
My children sleep
within their beds
their stockings hung with glee
to dream their woven dreams
of sparkling fantasy.
Remembering mine
I lace that tree
with love and ecstacy
and hope their faces reflect mine
when I was only wee.

Throw another log on the fire
the wind's getting up
and the rain's turned to sleet.

Make a dancing ,crackling fire,
to fill up the room
with it's comforting heat.

There may be a power cut
but never you mind,
we'll sit in the light of the fireside glow.

We'll renew our love
without distraction
while outside the sleet turns to snow.

my past has gone
my present's here
my future's still to come.
I'll make my mark
and when I'm gone
my spirit shall live on.

At this juncture it would seem
your ubiquitous problems
have become obscene
so
to make all this less operose
delve deep and
find the root and show
that you can stem the flow
at the fountain head
and choose the right
route instead.

To walk alone
along the road of life
enduring stones of spite
because you
will not
cannot
won't
accept the clothing
that they want to put you in
might not be nice
so compensate
with thrill of
knowing
doing
being
what you are
and be content.

Let it be open
So the love can flow
Let it burn through
And leave
An indelible mark
On your soul.

Don't immortalize my memory
just because you thought you knew me
you
who said you were my friend
abused my trust for your own end
you
who smiled so sweet upon my face
yet just as soon would take my place
oh what,I ask did you desire
so bad of mine that caused you ire?
and I
who loved you as a friend would
was pleased to serve you as a friend should
until the day you passed me by
with frozen smile and wary eye
flinging words behind you as you went
"sorry ,no time to stop now got to fly
see you sometime. Bye."
Hurt, I watched you rush away
confused,I knew not what to say.
My open face I've shown to you
and in return you've shown me two.

There's a light on, on my dashboard
I've not seen that before,
I don't know what the light means
the manual's in the drawer.
That light is quite annoying
with it's constant warning flash,
I need to find a garage
not sure I have the cash.
Ah! this place looks quite friendly
I'll pull in here and ask.
"Well yes " the kind man told me
"it's nothing of a task".
The man was very patient
he never shouted once.
Thank God he never charged me
now I can buy my lunch.

Travelling on the treadmill of time
we only stop to die.
Did we but know when we were born
of the fate of you and I.
The moment of birth we cannot recall
death we cannot foresee.
Just two more cogs on the treadmill of time
is the fate of you and me.

We go deeper than any pain
we may have suffered
when fingers from a dark past
pointed in accusation
and we sprang apart
like startled cats
bolting in different directions


trying to look innocent.

When I was young  and time was infinite
I was spontaneous,impulsive, impatient.
Now I am older
and life is precious
and timeless becomes time
with an end in sight.
Love becomes more visible.
I am adventurous,
pensive and patient,
riding the next dream
into a timeless future.

I watch,
the ocean of emotion
welling up
through limpid eyes
in fearful, tearful panic
clutching at the straws
that are granddad
that true constant
love
unspoken.

Who could ask for more?
than to sit beside the river
on it's perpetual,headlong journey,
in the green and verdant valley of the Wye.
Where the ever changing seasons
in their rich and timeless harmony
bring a new delight to please the eye.
Where meadows,rich and fertile,
reach up to meet the woodland
standing proud and green against the sky.
See the salmon catch the sunlight,
hear the constant conversations
of the bird life as they swoop and soar so high.
Smell the sweet scent of the leaf mould
catch the spirit of the moment
who could ask for more?
Not I.

Rough gusts
Thrusting.

Wet and windy
Winter whiteout
Weather Warning.

He looked at me
that child of knowing eyes,
knowing eyes
of iridescent blue.
Blue pools gazing
blue gaze searching
for a link.
A link of recognition.
New, wise soul
old,wise soul
connecting
smiling
love.

Breathless in this valley
I contemplate with awe
the timeless,verdant landscape
rolling upward from it's floor.
I wonder at such symmetry
such sublime majesty
which captures my attention
and makes my spirit soar.
The river in it's urgent quest
to reach the open sea
with it's salmon forging upward
in their own urgency.
Nothing greener than the meadows
watered by the rushing Wye
except perhaps the wooded hills
standing green against the sky.

Together,alone
we talk
about everything
and nothing.

A trail of years
laced together
with broken promises
threats and regrets.

You say I spit resentment
and share nothing of myself
while you
stand on the outside looking in.

The promise of love
held always at arms' length
demanding more in return
always more in return.

You ****** me in
and closed me down
trapped with the  pain of old wounds
which you throw in my face
like acid
and I close the lid tighter
while the pressure builds

waiting to explode
and expose me.

you left
you didn't say goodbye
you left
you didn't tell us why
bereft
we wept.