If my sky should fall
as one day I know it will
let mosses stitch my winding sheet
wrap me in a willow shroud
shot through with camomile
bury me in starlight,
six hands deep beneath the trees
for I always was romantic
then let me rest and take my ease

'Green blue of the sky
heated white-hot'
Vincent saw, what we could not
captured through an artists eye
he put aside his pain
to give us fields of lavender
and glorious scented rain

To love is to derail your path
put aside your own desires
throw yourself upon the pyre
to feed the fires that burn in someone else's heart
an act of madness from the very start
not a sacrifice, for that implies regret
yet we impale ourselves, to feel love's sting
on the reddest rose with the sharpest thorn
the sweetest pain which must be borne
a beautiful sabotage

Fall soft you tranquil rain
clean the streets
embrace the light
condemn our cigarette scented night  
send him full in flight to the drain
wash this soiled and gum chewed world
remove a little of the stain

The past it is no sea
no tide that breaks upon a foreign land
it is a creek, an oily little stream
which bleeds its waters on today's white sand

soft falls the silence
gentle rain upon your face
beads full between those waiting lips
a poet once, but taking sips of watered war
has stilled your voice
and beauty speaks no more

Rain is fodder
food for hungry puddles
when the sun is out
they waste away to nothing

Today I will hang my Winter curtains
thick and soft as a cat's full belly
December throw your gauntlet
full blast the rain, the wind can roar
they will not step inside my door
for every sound becomes a purr
when I have donned my seasonal fur

Summer wears a gauntlet green
in Autumn rusted patches can be seen
Winter swaps for stout grey wool
to keep his fingers warm
Spring a stripper's emerald glove
when ready to perform

The sticks and stones
of ancient bones
are seen beneath the skin
a mushroom scented dying
as the year is growing thin
sing requiem for Autumn
so that Winter may begin

music and movement
pretending to be a tree
in your pants and vest

Farewell Samhain
Celtic custom to honour the dead
****** for profit and greed instead
drowned in sugar
until all that remains
is a Jack-O-Lantern rotting in rain

Do I love you,
more than gentle earth or sky
or rain or cooling winds that blow
air to breathe or wine to sip
daffodils and trees in spring
a thousand other poets things
I do not know if this is true
I only know that I love you

I see you wriggling
little word-fish  
trying to get away  
behave now
jump in my writer's net  
don't worry, I won't eat you  
just borrow you for a bit  
as bait for bigger things  
stay still
let me fix you to my story hook  
I need to capture a reader

This long day
what will we sip from the hours before us
sweetened wine,
taken from each other’s lips
throw in our weary lot with circumstance
and cast our loving dice until they roll a six
the coming night will end the game
so let us play and burn the candle flame

Curtains blow
through tight closed panes
not a breath of wind
but the shape remains
no breeze has settled on my windowsill
outside the sleeping world is still
and yet those curtains wander where they will
I turn my back on flowered fingers
and try to sleep
but the feeling lingers

I see you
Laird of Tanera Mòr
shaded scotsman
misty on the dock
I hear your skirling pipes
threading salted air
silent sound which cuts
and tops each bouncing wave
music on the bridge
between the living and the grave

The creative mind
is a beast never still
a nervous high strung fish
that swims in a restless sea
forever searching
chasing thought worms
which may not come to be
it needs waves of ideas
to spin it round and round
the ocean of its notions
would dry up on solid #ground

An aeon I have waited
for sea to grind the rocks to sand
reclaiming fertile pasture land
where once I walked
an armoured tank
of smashing tail and deafening roar
now far from what I was before
a pile of bones this fossil beast
waiting still to be released

Every slice of bread
contains seeds of history
which unite us all

Lost lines
withered fruit upon the vine
which snuffs a lighted candle
in the writers mind
the skull, that egg
which once was full and round
now echoes, hollow with the sound
of missing words no longer found

Come sleep do not avoid me
I am not your mortal enemy
as you are not mine
let us shake on it in darkness
and meet again when it is light
without this constant restless fight
of turning pillows in endless night
visit me, comfort me, set me yawning
we can talk some more, tomorrow morning

Slap my face cruel wind
press hard upon my cheek
with fingers red and rough as any farmers hand
you bend the struggling trees
and whip the waves to beat the land
is it any wonder
that I fail to understand
how one so gentle in repose
could be so angry when he blows

Love me by candlelight
hide my inhibitions inside your expectations
cover us with a blanket of shadows
when the flame burns low let me go
we need not seek a truth that light may bring
let this be a transitory thing

Scarlet dancing poppies
ruffled skirts flung high
pansies and geraniums
nod to an August sky
foxglove mint and rosemary
move with the wind and sway
a summer garden party
and a fragrant cabaret

Fall colours
the russet reds and yellow browns
of Summer's faded hand me downs
Autumn is the second sister

Sunset
a final blush
as evening strokes the land
with butter yellow fingers
on a soft and gentle hand
caressing and *******
and finally confessing
to a scarlet indiscretion
that the day won't understand

crushed inside a rock
it took me a million years
just to see the light

Passion
a taste of peaches
grown upon a wall
through glowing embers
love remembers
how sweet it was to fall

News from the oak tree
she sent a brown envelope
to say it's Autumn

Mercurial girl
ethereal in her way
and as such she could not stay
to grace our listening ears for long
she left us with the fragments of her songs
and when the wind blew strong
she could not stand against the gale
that light so bright she held inside began to fail

An Autumn breeze
is not the flighty winsome tease she was in Spring
she has experience to bring and is more certain
collecting up the fallen leaves
to weave them through October's curtain

Driftwood hearts
together but apart
no big confrontation
a gentle separation
no rescue boat
we just float
water and sand
getting further from land

I wished I could stay in my chrysalis world
folded tight with my wings still curled
so nobody would have to see
the little brown moth
that I knew to be me

In darkness
when fear of fear itself and the unknown
ensures that certainty and other showier birds have flown
an unremarkable bird of no particular renown
will sing to you, her feathers plain and brown
no matter how hard the road, or the steep the stair
nothing is ever hopeless as long as I am there

Winter's lonely Queen enthroned
endures the long dog days
minded only by her North wind steward
a morose and moaning fellow
of harsh voice and even fiercer countenance
he sings no gentle airs to soothe
no lullabies or music made to please
but rages full blast around her chamber
battering each wall and rattling the locks
until he has exhausted all his fury
only while he slumbers
can she dress in white
don her many jewels of ice
and dance with the sun
who comes to cheer her up, but cannot stay
she knows his love is dangerous
but she cannot keep away

I stand and watch my brood depart
brave captives of an Autumn sky
they need no shelter from my wings
now they are swans and want to fly

Beleaguered by an Autumn breeze
which shakes the tall September trees
to help them shed their coloured clothes
more naked every time it blows
twiggy fingers raised in the air
they dance around like they just don't care

Do not mourn for me in sombre colours
black and grey was not my way to be
do not drown me in sorrowing hymns
praise me with the tunes of larks
I always loved their spiral song in flight
celebrate the spirit that was me
forget the dark
embrace my light

Checked tables
ocean views
winding streets
kicked off shoes
Greek yoghurt
blueberry sweet
fresh brewed coffee
holiday treat

Crows on Autumn corn
challenge the wind
for the remains of Summer

Summer's lady  
green she taps  
soft on the window
sweet meadow grass  
not yet turned to hay
draw me out then
lead me astray
scatter my good intentions
I will work another day

bone dry air crackles
raising dust in midday heat
soon the rain will come

Clothe me in watery waves all greens and blues
let clinging sands become my shoes
come salt wind that hails from the West
******* far away from my desk

His headphones fit in ears
that haven’t listened for years
I spend most of my time
looking down at my phone
which is marginally better
than feeling alone
mass communication
has fulled our isolation
once love was a rocket
now we only connect
at the USB socket

Where my feet have not trod
no earthly trace of foot or shoe
has marked this sleepy lawn still wet with dew
no early birds peck breakfast at their ease
no gossiping wind to whisper through the trees
a day with all its mysteries
still to tease

There is no goal
nothing to follow
no beacon for life
no beating pulse
no footsteps
no end in view
freefall children
this is what we do
leaves on the wind
tossed and blown
creatures of chance
of fate and circumstance
we dance along the wire
until we expire

Blackberry sweet
elderberry shine
we cannot ignore
the approaching signs
growing along the highway
to Autumn

Without a soul
there is no life
only relentless churning
in a word machine
which has never seen
or sorrowed
or loved
or a thousand other things
for it is this that gives the poet's words their wings
it can but try
but with no heart
it cannot truly fly

Hospital coffee
hopeful light
mixed strong with wanting dark
a bitter longing blend
which burns the mind
but does not seek to fill an empty cup
stirred with memory
amid the bleeps and whines
of a machinery heart
truly a mocha morning