A pebble in a sea of glass

shattered mind raindrops

fragile as broken cobwebs

sun strong and shadow deep

infinite and fleeting

planet sized in the palm of your hand

belief is everything

and nothing at all

Winter sunrise on my last and longest day,

wrap me in a winding sheet of flaming orange

take the reds and pinks from midnight blue to make my shroud

let me rest in heaven fire

drown my tired soul in colour

drinking the final carnival

warmth for my bones,

a funeral of skies and wonders

My poems may not be all that good
not near as much polish as they should
some of them wither on the vine
but *******
at least they are mine!

Flowers will bloom in battlefield mud
amid army boots and battlefield blood
a robin will chirp on a battlefield wire
joined by others in a battlefield choir
except for the camps
where no bird will sing
the silence of ugly is a terrible thing

Virginia,
bathed in the misty Ouse
overcoat pockets filled with the hard grey stones of life
dark rocks to match the shadows
of the mountain heaped upon her back
until she could not bear the load
so she swam, and did not leave a forwarding address
or bring a towel and sandwiches for a picnic

Sunset lends its many shades
as a dying day begins to fade
the whites of clouds
and parrotfish blues
replaced by glorious fiery hues
colours dance in the sky's cotillion
of melting golds and sweet vermillion

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

Once afraid
I turned my coat from the world
wore it inside out and hid away
showed the lining dull and grey
I did not want the world to see
that rainbow coloured other me

After many near misses
sweet thunderbolt kisses
explode upon my lips
heady molten sips
which burn me
turn me to matchwood
incendiary splinters
ashes of desire
a willing victim of flame and fire

Early morning tea
Sleepy hands on a china bowl
Peace in the garden

A fish
does not want to be on your dish
for it to be obtainable
it needs to be
sustainable

Faded sunset clouds
Waiting moon and infant stars
A subtle blending

Found floating among the ****
one beach shoe sized five
what happened to the other one
because we never found it
perhaps it went with you into the wide blue waves
a faithful companion and foot soldier
comfort for the journey you never said you were making
you might have to hop through eternity
that would be silly
and you never did like cold feet

You left the heavens
to bless our silent lake
and bathe your pale and beauteous face
loving heart of infinite grace
I am enraptured, captured and
infinitely moonstruck
I know full well
that I would always have it so
do not let the coming daylight drink your shine
stay a while
oh moon be ever mine

Sleepy blue ocean
Hiding in a cowrie shell
I heard her snoring

Poppies after rain
Waving scarlet petticoats
A garden can-can

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

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

September rain  
falling grey on Monday faces
washes out the dusty traces
of August in the air,
coffee mug memories
warm and serene,
muse on the summer it might have been

Set free to roam in foam
a windblown mane
follow the herd
come all come chasing
rolling racing
kick up sand
water horse
reclaim the land

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

dawn in the garden
fragrant blossoms fill my cup
hot tea with lemon

Leaders are supposed to inspire

not warm their hands as the flames climb higher

on the nation's funeral pyre!

Art is in the poet not the word
we sing the song
and write the lyrics
to a tune which must be heard

A harp that needs no fingers
no hand to pluck the strings
it speaks of love’s betrayal
and ****** when it sings

Twilight is a spark
Saturday's penny candle
Lights Sunday's fire

A wolf has come to eat the sun
the Gods supplied us only one
with jaws that tear and teeth that bite
he stops to drink our fading light
eclipse the world, pour out the soul
you nibble, can't you eat it whole?

She’s been gone
for so long
we are different now
much older
and perhaps a little colder inside
because something in all of us died
when she did!

When strands of night become day

Deepest purple turns to lilac gold

Quietly chasing away the lingering white of the stars

When ragged day becomes night

A fiesta of reds and orange

Boiling into the heavens beyond the horizon

The gentle dawn and the evening carnival

Inviting humanity to stop and gaze across the ages

United in a simple act, the colour of wonder

Fate, I do not know your name

Remove the stars

Shake them from the heavens

Like brightest rain


Cover me in a glittered cloth

Of fire and light

Set the night

Ablaze


Remove the dark

And let me be that spark

Which sets the heavens all aflame

Dream with me of the beach
hold me as we glide
in tempo with the tide
let us dance
let us tango
a lyrical fandango
like it always used to be
just for you and me
passion unrefined
when I wake up i'll find
sandy footprints on my mind

When you were bold Sir Lancelot
and I was a lady fair
we cast our fortune to the wind
and love was free as air

When you were old Sir Lancelot
and I was a lady fair
I never thought there would come a time
when you would not be there

When you were gone Sir Lancelot
I missed you being near
you left a sad and grieving maid
your lonely Guinevere

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

Take the mother night
Wrap her in glorious dawn
To birth a new day

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

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

Letters returned to sender
my heart in the blender
fingers burned
lesson learned!

Bittersweet words
drip from your tongue
in a pool of deception
through which we wade
the silent rain of promises made

Don't put me in a corner
or back me in tight
it's probably the only time that I will stand and fight
If you leave me little option
here's what I'm gonna do
I'll leap out of my corner
and bite a chunk off you!

Through grass grown brown
in sweet air's chill
Summer heart
please love me still
when swallows leave
all wild geese flown
say you'll stay to be my own

Oh Vincent
if only you had known
the world would one day marvel
at your sunflowers
and those waving fields of grain
you left us
but they will remain
a part of you
the beating heart of you
the art of you
for your success was unforeseen
you left us
with what might have been

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

Watching from the edge
You can view eternity
Closer than you think

Zéphyr soft upon my cheek
caress my face with spring
dance with me
wash me with rain
bring warmth
and swell the grain
oh fortunate wind
blown from the West
of all the breezes
I like you the best

Sunrise
is always a surprise
we bask in the glow
and we know
that millennia ago
people were doing the same
like us they gasped as the sky turn to flame
the way if affects us
connects us

Soft falls the light,
not sea nor beach nor seabird wandering sky
it is by nature separate and entirely of itself
edged in sand, a yellow shade of rippled countenance
not exactly day nor coming night
although the evening tide has lately been
it is a colour somewhere in-between

Seventy two Crows
have come to bid you goodbye
dressed in mourning clothes

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

When we dream
we take down a book
from the shelf
of ourself