Syrup

drips from your tongue

saffron words, yellow and fragrant, pool at your feet

sweet and clear they charm the birds from the trees

but not the bees

they know real honey!

There must have been a time
When the world was quiet
just the moving trees and the breeze
and the waving meadow grass
When did that moment pass?
Now and again away from the din
a little stillness creeps back in
Maybe it’s been there all along
With its peaceful non-existent song
Perhaps we just forgot how to listen
to the silence!

A wilderness heart

Wrapped in thorns

Tangled spikes, to keep the hurtful world at bay

You sought me out

And you cut them anyway

Bramble king of Autumn

Swirling cloak of windblown colours

Spikes and blackberry sweetness on the vine

A talented contradiction

Who does not feel the summer heat

Or own the chill that winter brings

One alone

A blended showy charmer

With a magic only he can bring

Beware this tattered crown

For he can turn his tune to bitter-song

With freezing notes that hang upon the frosted air

Weaving seasons end of twisted fabric

Holding out a hand to cold

Signalling to all the year is  done

Time to turn the pages

Leave the book open

Scribble what you want to say

Then draw a line

Put down the Pencil

Make space for a new beginning

A fresh hand can start their story

You wrote a chapter or two

When someone moved over for you

Now do the same

Let the music fade

The lights go down

Time to leave the stage with grace

It is done

Goodbye

The rain on my window has no idea that I think of it as fat unsalted tears, as I watch the flow from ashen discontented skies

It cannot think or reason why
I feel this way

About the foggy endless grey
that fills my head

The heavy sense of brooding and unsatisfying dread

Maybe tomorrow the sullen rain will drain away

But not today

Show me the beauty, beyond our careworn world
where sighs of woe outnumber gasps of wonder

Show me the beauty, of a winter sky seen from a window
etched in deepest shades of elephant grey

Show me the beauty still to come,
Sleepless dawns above silent shuttered houses

Show me the beauty hidden in plain sight,
A gift for those who dare to reach beyond their walls to see

Do the stars look down and gently sigh
From their lofty home do they wonder why,
as we scurry around on our little blue ball
concerned about things that don't matter at all.
Do they weep when they see us again and again
smashing our world and the bits that remain.
The continuing heavens roll on and on
they were there before, and after we've gone
they will still exist to shed their light
with a fire that warms the eternal night.
Human kind is the blink of an eye
To those who look down and wonder why!

In the garden stir the flowers
That whisper through the trees
A subtle hint of fragrance fading on the breeze
Ripples over pebbles
Gentle rushing of the stream
Is the smile in cool reflection
That of you or Angeline?
In the binding choking clinging ****
Which stops the waters flow
Do you find her auburn tresses
And that face as white as snow
Does she walk beside you?
Like she did so long ago
It was you that drowned her
So only you would know!

Turn back the clocks
Countless ears who heard the restless call of spring
Will never dance to winters tune
The hands of time are stilled
For them the clock has stopped
On this year
And all others
This dying year
Has become a year of dying

Each nation

Each successive generation

Has punched that button

It isn’t red

It is quite round

And it’s there

Just look around

It fires doomsday

That elephant in all our rooms-day

We need to stop pushing

We  need to start thinking

The oceans are filthy

The ice caps are shrinking

We all own the button

It's big and it's blue

It's everyones planet

and that includes you!

A bird

A graceful fragile thing devoid of earthly care

Which sings and sets the sky alight

On wings so light they skim the air

I have laid down my life as I laid down my gun
the battle is over
I don't know who won
their side our side
does anyone care when it's all  said and done?
Long ago and far away
at very the end of the hardest day
when silence falls on the blood red, mud red, grass
will anyone remember what came to pass?
Young men die and old men weep
for comrades lost and the memories they keep
hugged to themselves till their time is done
a long life haunted by the shadow of the gun.
I have no name
war took it from me
a symbol, instead of the lad I used to be

The thin bare bones of a silence that was

Shattered calm, a mirror cracked

Snapped underfoot like a plastic toy

Smashed, a fragile thing destroyed

Beauty broken by a careless word!

See your face in standing water
it reflects back the truth

No airbrushes in nature
no photoshop filters
you get what you get

Staring into the clear and glassy depths, right to the bottom
You think you can see through it, but really it sees through you!

The shapes of sleep

Day smoke that flows throughout our waking hours
released to tease and twist our darkling thoughts to landscapes, cities of the quiet mind

Shadow towers defined by nothing more than fancy and a little fact
the unassuming act of pressing day on night

Unconscious distant learning stoked by fear to feed and keep its belly still, and a little yearning when we need it

Our treasures taken from that mental box we keep

unlocked, explored and plundered deep

The grey and somewhat shop - worn curtains, covering the shapes of sleep

We hunger when the grey doubt wolves are prowling around our doors, sniffing at the latches as we crouch inside

Our ears are stuffed with hopeful thoughts because their song is one of want and we cannot ignore their dreadful music

The newly  ******, searching for a light that won't be found

Chasing every spark, in search of faint salvation for our fragile shrunken world but mostly for ourselves

Stitched with good time memories and thoughts of better days to come

Thrown shadows, lit large on walls that once we thought were strong have lost their charm and turned from fortress into prison where we hold the keys to melted locks

Ravening, for days not so long passed when we were free to live in this tattered world of haves and have nots, when all are hungry the howling begins

Peace is an early morning

Dare you break the silence with your footsteps on the grass

Spiders weaving cobwebs case their industry and listen to the nothing, dewdrop heavy

Rabbits out for early breakfast halt their chewing mouths and wait in expectation

Frozen cracking trees still their restless branches for a while and the river runs slow, no trickling streams to signify its presence

Trout swim in the shallows

Gentle watchers of the newborn day

A sky of painted rain from custard yellow clouds, fell beyond my gallery window glass.

The grass a silken thread of cinnamon fire, vermillion and orange tea brewed strong and hot, which ran to choppy rivers damson plum and vintage flowing wine, stretched far beyond my own imagining
to boiling seas of unknown hue.

Did a morning ever dawn which held such colour and such light, If so it isn’t one I ever knew!

If only I had wings to fly
The sky would not hold me
I would be so much more
Than a bird who could swoop and soar, and twist and dive
Alive, at one with spirits of the air
To drop each care
And watch it fall, like silent drifting feathers to the ground
Could there be a peace more sacred and profound

Teeth in jaws that snap

Beyond the tongue that twists and winds

The trap that binds you to your word

Once beyond those tombstone markers to the world

All hope is lost for yet another lie uncurled

To wind itself like smoke

To choke and wrap around your slender throat

To make you wish you never spoke a single scarlet word

And those you hurt had never even heard!