In   the   yard   there   is   a   tree
It's   been   there   quite   a   while
I   look   at   it   today
With   a   quiet,   wistful   smile.

From   years   long   gone   a   vision
Of   a   child   looking   around
I   see   –   as   he   surveyed
Brown,   beaten,   barren   ground.

He   knew   without   quite   knowing
That   something   was   not   right
They'd   said   the   earth   should   hold
Full   blooms   and   flowers   bright.

Despondent,   he   saw   no   blade
Of   grass   –   no   copse,   no   bush.
Not   just   a   leaf   to   wipe
The   sudden   tearful   rush.

With   grubby   hand   he   rubbed
Tired   eyes   that   woeful   weep
And   turned   from   whence   he   came
To   the   silent   house   to   sleep.

But   first   upon   the   table
He   saw   what   had   been   left
As   mothers   are   wont   to   do
A   mango   for   him   was   kept.

With   practised   ease   he   clambered
Onto   to   the   nearest   chair
And   the   pensive   fruit   he   ******
Leaving   stains   on   face   and   hair.

Then   something   he'd   heard
Came   to   mind   with   startling   light
He   look'd   through   the   window
His   eyes   were   shining   bright.

He   toddled   back   outside
And   saw   the   distant   wall
His   gaze   fixed   upon   it
Threw   the   kernel   like   a   ball.

Then   came   in   back   to   sleep
From   the   yard   with   barren   earth
And   when   he   woke   he   heard
The   sounds   of   talk   and   mirth.

And   as   is   a   child's   way
He   forgot   what   he   had   cast,
In   the   pleasures   of   today
Past   deeds   are   often   past.

The   seasons   came   and   went
The   child   to   manhood   grown
He'd   left   his   parent's   house
For   a   place   he   called   his   own.

With   the   passing   of   the   years
Memory   too   lost   its   recall
Though   on   chance   he   told   the   tale
Of   the   kernel   by   the   wall

One   day   'cross   oceans   distant
A   man   came   back   to   claim
The   child   of   the   child   returned
To   the   house   that   bore   his   name

And   in   the   yard   he   saw
No   patch   of   empty   ground
But   a   giant   mango   tree
Fruit   flies   flitting   around.

And   in   its   shade   he   stood
Amidst   flowers   of   different   hue
And   tried   in   vain   to   see
The   wall   his   father   knew.

In   the   lush   green   of   the   yard
The   distant   wall   was   hidden
And   with   no   conscious   thought
Came   a   sight   quite   unbidden..

On   the   spot   where   he   stood
He   saw   again   that   child
And   reverent   bent   to   taste
Fruit   lying   in   splendour   wild.

The   grey   upon   his   shoulders
Gnarled   bark   of   the   tree
The   wisdom   of   the   years
Was   there   for   him   to   see.

He   knew   it   was   the   land
And   the   rain   in   season   due
That   gave   the   tree   and   yard
Its   colours   and   its   hue.

But   all   that   he   could   sense
Was   a   child   trying   to   see
Bright   flowers   and   green   grass
Where   they'd   said   they   should   be.

Like   him   perhaps   there'll   be
A   woeful   child   who'll   stand
And   plant   another   tree
With   the   kernel   in   his   hand.

From   simple   deeds   are   born
Life's   flavours   and   its   treats
From   little   children's   longings
Barren   nature   too   retreats

When   he,   his   child,   and   children
Are   gone,   the   tree   will   stand
A   symbol   of   the   miracle
Wrought   by   a   child's   hand.

You   gave   me   a   moment
A   moment   to   savour,
The   truths   I'd   forsaked
Of   life's   hues   and   flavour

A   moment   to   voice
New   thoughts   –   and   some   old,
A   moment   to   wonder
To   fear   or   be   bold

A   moment   to   walk
Those   paths   I   would   tread,
And   clothe   with   new   words
Old   songs   in   my   head

A   moment   to   smile
At   the   first   light   of   Dawn,
And   stroll   with   the   leaves
'Cross   a   dew   dampened   lawn

A   moment   to   ponder
On   walks   by   the   streams,
The   visions   I   had   fashioned
From   the   fabric   of   my   dreams

You   left   me   a   moment
My   spirit   to   hold,
On   lonely   winter   nights
To   keep   out   the   cold

Like   others   I   had   days
And   moments   I   knew,
I   lost   all   those   moments
In   a   moment   with   you.

With   a   whiff   I'll   recall
That   fragrance   anew
Of   a   single,   stray   moment   –
Long   forgotten   by   you.

Of   a   rose   on   a   table
And   a   candle   well   placed
Two   strangers   and   a   song
That   the   moment   had   graced.

You   gave   me   your   Moment.
I   give   you   my   Hours.
I'll   dress   them   in   moonbeams
And   crown   them   with   stars.

Will   you   take   what   I   give
Such   offers   are   few,
Of   hours   made   of   moments
And   each   moment   for   you.

A   quiet   place   nestled   upon   a   hill,
A   garden,    chairs,    moods   soft   and   still,
Sat   musing,    lost,    yet   somewhat   aware,
Of   a   stray,    nagging   care.

I   sensed   the   first   faint   footfall   sound,
I   closed   my   eyes   and   from   around,
Mirth,    naughty,    chuckled   through   the   trees,
Light   footed   rain   danced   on   the   eaves.

O'er   hilltops   delicate   graceful   weave,
The   clouds   in   ritual   begin   to   cleave,
To   trim   her   star   studded   gown
And   daintly   clothe   a   sleepy   town.

Walk   soft   -   Night   now   claims   her   way,
Her   dark   ushers   the   day   away,
Muted   light   silhouettes   the   stately   trees,
I   heard   her   song   upon   the   breeze.

Quilted   shadows,    sleepy   flowers   turn,
Dreamy   eyes   with   strange   passion   burn,
A   sudden   fragrance   lent   it   voice
I   watched   them   with   their   Night   rejoice.

I   held   her   words   before   they   fled,
In   gentle   tones   to   me   she   said
"Others,    today,    in   festive   mood
Celebrate-   Why   alone   do   you   brood? "

"Let's   walk   together   my   secret   way
'Cross   hill   and   vale   where   done   dare   stray"
She   beckoned   -   I   yet   held   my   place
Distrusting   of   her   smiling   face.

"Behind   me,    look,    do   you   hear
The   sounds   of   joy   and   of   cheer"
I   said,    watching   from   afar,
Gaiety   hostage   to   that   hour.

Through   frosted   panes   the   candles   glowed
And   talk   and   laughter   freely   flowed
Then   her   mist   reached   out   to   me
Blurred   my   eyes   I   could   not   see.

Drifting,    gliding   o'er   time   and   space
No   longer   rooted   to   one   place
"Pain,    Sorrow,    revelers   of   the   Day"
She   said   "Here   they   dare   not   stay"

She   said   "   'Tis   time   for   us   to   walk
Across   to   see   and   hear   their   talk
I've   given   you   vision   to   see   and   know
The   passing   comfort   of   the   candle's   glow".

Within   me   a   sudden   joy   was   born
Of   knowledge   that   what   Day   had   torn
Night's   touch   would   mend   and   make   it   whole
Cloister   a   lost,    troubled   soul.

"They   seek   the   false   pallid   light
And   try   and   keep   out   the   Night
With   fading   lives   and   laughter   short
They   live   afraid,    Fear   is   their   lot".

We   strolled   together,    I   and   Night
To   that   door,    well   out   of   sight
A   table   clad   in   rust   and   red
She   chose   -   the   candle   wounded   bled.

One,    protective,    with   his   hand
Shaped   a   vain,    trembling   band
Around   the   flame   -   Night   looked   and   smiled
I   watched,    unseen,    as   he   tried.

To   keep   the   gust   from   wounded   flame
Night   went   on   with   her   game
Her   companion   breeze   raised   the   stake
To   help   her   the   fragile   band   to   break.

To   shock   his   hand   to   chilled   retreat
Abandon   candle   and   his   seat
The   dead   candle   lay   where   once   it   glowed
Talk   and   laughter   no   longer   flowed.

Night   said   "They   are   creatures   of   the   Day
Unworthy   with   dark   Night   to   play
They   shun   my   caress,    they   fear   my   hold
Dulled   senses   and   with   spirits   cold."

"I've   shown   you   what   there   is   to   know
Some   lives,    brief,    like   candles   glow
I've   chosen   you   to   walk   with   me
Awakened   senses   and   with   spirit   free."

A   parting   smile,    she   turns   to   go
Shimmering,    fades   in   a   rustling   flow
I   watch   a   new   dawn   break   the   sky
And   brush   the   dew   drop   from   my   eye.

When,    now,    my   weary   days   are   long,
I   draw   a   chair,    await   her   song,
The   garden's   quiet,    moods   soft   and   light
As   we   embrace,    I   and   my   Night.

THE WANDERER’S SONG


I've   said   goodbyes   often
When   I   could   still   hear,
Faint   echoes   of   their   greetings
Murmur   softly   in   my   ear.

It's   not   I   ever  wanted
The   seasons   should   not   stay,
Some   Springs   I'd   often   wished  
Would   just   last   another   day.

It's   not   I   ever   wanted
The   crown   of   dubious   fame
Just   my   soul   upon   my   shoulder
No   doorstep   to   my   name.

Oft   at   weary   crossings
I'd   wonder   if   at   last,
My   travels   were   now   over
I   could   leave   behind   the   past.

Was   this   the   place   of   comfort
With   stone   and   cement   bound?
Neat   flowers   and   trim   hedges
In   silence   laid   around.

With   none   to   sit   beside   me
The   hearth   would   chill   my   feet
Just   books   to   tell   me   tales
In   silent   closed   retreat.

Then,   one   day,   so   casual
Life   glanced   again   my   way,
The   doors   I'd   closed   –   I   opened,
I   could   no   longer   stay.

I   left   that   prison's   doorstep,
Secure   stone   and   cement   hole,
For   paths   I   knew   not   led   where
Captive   to   my   restless   soul.

My   thoughts   were   ever   constant
My   spirit   too   was   true,
It   left   its   futile   searching
And   fled   to   skies   of   blue.

Amidst   the   clouds   I   sauntered
Along   trails   of   stars   and   dreams
Skipped   pebbles   'cross   the   faces
Of   merry   bubbling   streams.

The   Seasons   they   would   change
And   in   passing   leave   behind
No   furrows   on   my   brow
No   shadows   on   my   mind.

Songs   that   need   no   music
And   words   not   needing   voice
The   sense   of   unknown   feelings
In   these   pleasures   I   rejoice.

I   still   say   my   goodbyes
When   hullos   linger   on
Just   my   soul   'pon   my   shoulder
Just   a   traveller-come   and   gone.

My day’s done;the night begins
With narry a star in my sky
Of dark clouds and memory’s stings
Harkening back to days gone by

There was a time ,still’d by thoughts
When rythmic words did easy flow
Some spoken and some silent kept
The treasured hoards from long ago

No turbulence could hold its sway  
Dawn and dusk both wore a smile
Dark shadows heard a silent prayer
For lingering dreams to last a while

Alas the pen that once could craft
Words that made passions flare
Now lies dry - like an aged man
A withered tube beyond repair

Yet I try with care and skill
Just a drop of ink to find
To write of laughter and of joy
And still the tortures of the mind

As   the   shadows   lengthen   on   the   sleeping   tree
Nor   you   nor   I   know   what   the   morrow'll   be,
Bear   with   me   –   this   verse'll   the   chapter   close
Indulge   one   last   time   a   poet's   fancy.

Sentiments   that   sealed   lips   did   not   betray,
Words   that   I   oft   was   afraid   to   say,
Fearing   Youth's   headiness   would   make   you   scoff,
Storm   past   the   barriers   –   laugh   if   you   may.

When   away   you've   been   in   a   distant   land,
Life's   dusk   is   drawing   near   close   at   hand,
These   words   may   yet   another   Dawn   reveal,
Another   morrow   help   a   night's   gloom   transcend.

You're   young   now,   life's   tide   is   at   the   peak,
Each   prayer   grants   you   just what      you   seek,
One   day   with   effort   will   their   joints   unfold
Fingers   –   that   with   grace   stroke   your   cheek.

If   at times  you're   alone   and   feeling   scared,
Pretences   stripped   and   reality   bared,
No   force   will   then   dare   you   to   touch,
If   you   for   others   too   have   cared.

Remember   when   you   walk   a   lonely   way,
A   helping   hand   on   a   stumbling   traveler   lay,
Pass   not   by   with   disdain   –   In   tolerance   grow,
Nor   let   your   smile   another's   faith   betray.

Look   around   you   –   There's   lots   yet   to   feel,
Bleeding   wounds   that   bleed,   no   balm   can   heal,
Stop   awhile   --   could   not   these   wounds   be   yours?
With   gentle   touch   the   flow   seek   to   seal.

Dead   souls,   spirits   about   to   break
Lost,   groping,   unsure   what   to   make
Of   life- you'll   meet   them   oft   enough
For   the   blind   a   little   sight   forsake.

In   your   journey   will   you   shed   a   tear,
Seeing   old   men   a   youthful   burden   bear   ?
Smile,   waking   to   a   bird's   carefree   “Hullo”
Break   down   the   walls   Nature's   song   to   hear.

Let   your   senses   wake   and   your   heart   be   free,
Smell   the   rose   when   others   the   thorns   can   see,
Seek   not   to   quench   the   passionate   fires   of   life,­
Behind   flashing   flames   though   dying   embers   be.

Perchance   the   day   will   come,   I   do   not   know,
In   casual   encounter   we'll   say   “Hullo”
And   turn   away   our   separate   paths   to   walk,
Estranged   by   Time's   rushing   flow.

I'll   see   you   then   as   when     I   write,
And   wonder   if   what   I   wrote   was   right,
Tho'   poets   are   fools   ,  captives   of   their   senses,
Their   words,   like   stars,   diffuse   the   night.

My   pen   has   writ   what   I   could   not   say,
Cherish   my   words   --   do   what   you   may,
My   solace   is   I claimed the right
To share with you some thoughts tonight.

Would I that time and space would cease
And emotions spent from their bond release
This spirit to roam in realms unknown
Light as a star, soft as the breeze