Haunted
by the ghost
of a tune that you heard
or a book you once read
a fluttering bird
that flew from your head

Your rock, the brick,
the stalwart mate you go to when the sky begins to fall,
who gives you tea and sympathy when you make that tearful call?
the questions begs an answer, who holds up the wall?

We are the fallen
bereft of life
but filled with music
we sing with a speeding bullet’s zing
our lyrics the crack of splintered bone
a symphony written for us alone
in the land where all are supposed to be free
so much then for liberty

A whisper in the dark
heard above the rain
when everything else is gone
hope will remain

If I could

I would write you a poem that speaks of midnight

And fill my pen with inky darkness and the bright cold light of stars

If I could

I would sing of the rolling moving sea that is never stilled

Cool grey and aquamarine would fill my palette as I brush the words

If I could

I would bring you lush hills and deep shady valleys in between

Pine green and Ochre are the threads in my rhyming tapestry

If I could

I would speak of dawns and sunsets bathed in infinite beauty

Hot pink and vivid tangerine silks gathered into a cloth of sound

If I could

I would write you a living landscape of colour to keep you warm on winter days

If only I could...

If you follow in my path
tread light in my shade
excuse the faltering steps that I made
if I left my heavy footprints showing
the damage I assure you was unknowing
erase my dust
walk with care
make it look
like I was never there

Birds have no shape,
they are everything
and they are nothing
wind and rain and trees
the scent of the breeze
tall dried grass
seeds which land
on full and fallow ground
an ocean heart that beats within us all
the sound of nature’s call
whatever the future holds
when shadows fall
and footsteps are dust
there will be birds

Japanese haiku
Distilled from simplicity
Essence of poet

You were always the fruit tree
new light of promised hope in spring
sweet pears within the summer of your days
the flowing wine of a full ripe season
and when autumn came
it reached with shadowed fingers
to pluck you from the wall
you stood alone against the wind
while we your living leaves were scattered
root and branch, stripped base and bare
it was then we watched you fall
there was heart in you my friend,
you gave your all

I need you

Like a summer wind that needs the rain

I need you

Like the breath of life for pleasure and for pain

I need you

Like a ticking clock that marks the hours

I need you

Like a humming bird among the flowers

I am your slave

Willow,
I will make my bed with you tonight
sleep soft and deep beneath your counterpane
no soothing water song, will ease my cares,
for I have none to ease
sing me no sweet tune,
no lullaby beneath the trees
for I am not a child,
a man full grown am I
traveller of the road,
by choice to make home
beneath a starlit sky

Tofu tofu
it just won’t do
the box is pretty
with its dragon stencil
but it looks and it tastes
like it rubs out pencil

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

Deep and cool green pool
Edge of the board looking down
A flight without wings

A writer is
A farmer of words
We sow the page
And harvest
Stories

Christmas marks the turning of years
the sparkle on this one is made with tears!

Yesterdays leaf
springs lithe and green,
of promise fine and fair,
todays is dry and parched and brown
its lifeblood fled elsewhere,
a cracked and fragile brittle thing
where hope no longer flowers,
how could this be,
how came you change,
full cursed by bitter hours

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

Unwritten lines upon a pristine page
waiting for a hand to bid them speak,
muted wings of tawny hunting owls
swift soft and to feed a midnight beak,
a peal of screaming bells
which have no tongues to sing
is this silence, waiting to be filled
or is a nothing held within these things

I wish I had a copy

A replica of you

One to take me shopping

One to hug me too


I wish I'd kept a copy

Now that you are gone

I wish I had that copy

But life still carries on


I wish I'd made that copy

So that you could stay

Instead I watched the real you

Grow faint and fade away

A Butterly ***** its wings

Warm air stirs

Clouds rise

Temperature drops

Rain begins

Seeds move in the earth

Dry rivers fill their bellies

Landlocked fish dance to the sea

The ocean moves

Cool air stirs

Storms rage

Clouds appear

And somewhere

A butterfly ***** its wings!

Sunday papers and a sit in bed
nothing needs saying that hasn’t been said
we can read the thoughts in each other’s heads
you drink your coffee, and I sip my tea
who ever knew we could ever be
happy not speaking, just you and me

Gathering sky,
heavy folds of white and linen grey
wrap the day,
tight in a nettle scented breeze
a blanket with no escape
song birds call, sharp to each other
hidden in the hedgerow
where the cow grass grows
thigh high by the gate,
pierced by spears
of meadowsweet and celandine
and so we wait to look for rain
allthough the weather may turn fine
who knows which way the season blows
in British summer time

To live only in the present
means you battle the storms of today
without a coat or a hat
you cannot plan for future weather
without the rain of the past
experience is an umbrella

I have this friend
her rage
at the world
is her cage
she won’t turn the page
or try to fly
to a brighter sun
in a bluer sky
a sad little bird
who constantly weeps
for the memories
she clings to
and keeps
clutched to her chest
ignoring the rest
of her life going by
and the scars
that she’s given herself
through the bars

Do not worry
when I go,
I will not be far
for I shall be the evening star
shining, ever near
do not fear
for I had my time
and lived it well as I knew how
but the time has come
I have to leave you now
watch the birds
see them fly
home across the evening sky
feel their wings
hear their song
you can cry,
but not for long

That intimate space

Inner sanctum of the discarded sock

That empty coffee cup

You meant to take downstairs

Borderland between light and dark

A place of extremes

Joy and love and sometimes fear

Where we can truly be ourselves

At our most vulnerable

When we close the door

We switch off,

The clock hits pause

We sleep,

Defenceless

Against the monsters under our beds

And the ones inside our heads!

Irish aer
brings the sweetest rain
from the bluest sky
which fills her streams
of brackish runs and rills
and paints the green
on lush and fond remembered hills

Ploughed fields and tractor churning
yarrow, nettle, stubble burning
signs of a year at summers turning
blackberry, bracken, meadow sweet
showing the season is almost complete
chiff-chaff, pipit, pecking crows
bring high summer to an early close

Mysterious girl
the snowdrop child,
buried in spring, etched in stone
in a churchyard corner she sleeps alone,
many greedy winters have gobbled up her name
she was never an enigma
because we loved her just the same

You don’t need religion
Or any kind of God
You can still be thankful
Because life can be a sod!

If you are still alive and kicking
And feeling pretty good
Give thanks your ticker’s ticking
Just because you should!

Do not cry for those who have gone
Make a better world for those who are to come.
Do not put your faith in shadows of the past
Step into the light and let them see you shine
Do not curse the broken time in which we live
Race both hands to mend the clock
Do not be scared of the future
Let the future be afraid instead
You have the power to change it
If you will but try

They applauded the president
those with no hands stamped their feet
those with no feet clapped their hands,
and the president smiled his crocodile smile
because he hadn't fought for his country
and he still had hands and feet
but he had no heart
not even a painted purple one!

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

Toughened glass

Women like me

Still around

You just can't see

We pick up names

As we go through life

Daughter Mother Sister Wife

Our role is often mapped and clear

Then we get to fifty and disappear

We want to shout I'm over here

We're not glam, we're not glum

Just somebody's mum

A little bit shopworn

But we did our bit

We brought up the kids

Took a whole load of sh*t

So please don't ignore us

We matter too

Just you wait till it happens to you

And it will!

Larks don't need parks

They need ploughed fields and waving grain

If they are to remain

They soar and sing of joy unbound

But they are rarely found

Galway's tears are grey
soft they fall upon her cheeks
scarred and rutted with her age
weathered by storms
kissed by the sea
a faithful and remembered love
he visits often
and tries to bend her to his will
but she is strong
resoulute she will not change
only time can rearrange her features
often she is mild
her temper only stirred by the restless wind
who is her neighbour
always rapping on the doors
of her crouched and hunkered homes
yes, Galway’s tears are grey
but her grassy smile is warm and wide
she gets into the bones of you
until you know that can never really leave her loving arms
and if you do, know a little of her will be coming too