A 'Wealthy' Man

He hears the tinkling joy
of stream caressing
gleaming pebbles,
misses the silver javelins
here and gone
in a heartbeat.

Pearlised darts
skim the water.
Colours borrowed from a rainbow
shimmer on quadruple wings.

White stucco walls
love the sun,
boasting their joining
and shunning the shadows.

Bees hum
a somnolent tune
played on wings
moved at the speed of light,
yet life is precious slow,
in sunlight,
its glories free to all.


He lies in thick meadow grass,
wearing a hat rejected by the rich
and glories in his wealth.

Time Passes. . .on

She held the hand of time,
ran through youth
carefree as the breeze.

As her steps slowed
time flew on ahead,
until,
finally exhausted. . .

it ran out.

Silence

To share silence
when a bridge of love
spans the quiet air,

is a double blessing,
a gift of peace,
a joining of souls,

come. . . sit with me.

Goodnight Albert

Hello Albert, is that you,
if it is dear, do come through.
I thought I heard the back door latch,
I should have put it on the catch.

I'm sitting cosy by the fire,
the telly's on. . . a male voice choir.
Do excuse the socks and scarf,
they keep me warm but make folk laugh.

I had ham and egg for tea,
not much you know, it's far from free,
but Pension day is nearly here
and then I'll have a pork chop dear.

No I haven't seen our Bert,
he's busy dear, he has to work
and Carol has a lot to do,
so chances to see her are few.

I'm OK, I sometimes see
the girl next door at twenty three.
She checks that I'm still 'of this world,'
that I'm not dead with all toes curled.

Don't get fussed, I only jest,
at least she checks, it's for the best.
There's no-one else since you passed on,
I miss you so much now you're gone.

We have our chats dear, of a kind,
bit one sided, never mind.
At least I can pretend you're here
it helps, imagining you near.

Well, I think it's time for sleep,
before I break and start to weep.
Come with me Albert, tuck me in,
and thank you dear for everything.

Faith

Precious thoughts,
gone to silent thief
with jackdaw stealth,

to searing nest
of melting gold,
where alchemy
destroys a dream
in flames of change.

Burn my lost desire,
cremate my sketch for life

but set aside my hope
and spare belief,

for faith will see me triumph in the end.

Flood!

The storm grew,

life held its breath
as rain drops teased
the parched earth.

Its black heart doused the moon
and snuffed out the stars,
hiding true intent.

With all disarmed,
and sleeping quiet
in trust,
it struck.

Rain the devil knew
swept the moor,
slaking thirsty streams
and needy land;

until the hills wept
and their tears
filled the town.

In daylight's glare
it fled the coward's path,

three lives lost
and frightened souls
displaced
and in its wake. . .

despair.

Motorway

The motorway yawns ahead!.

Roaring lemmings
compete to be first
down the tarmac throat.

White lines converging
slip soundlessly
over the infinite horizon
to oblivion.

Benign banks
studded with golden gorse
block escape
for miles,

but beyond. . .

a glimpse of country lanes
and a world
that remembers
when there was
time to pause,

to linger,

to dream.

The Pianist

He sees the world in black and white,
The high notes and the low, within life's frame,
allegretto when youth leads the dance
but andante when age slows the game.

Silent Light

The sun rose quietly on a sleeping world,
soundlessly waking the sky
and stroking the sea to life in golden silence.

Censured gulls stir and cry in dawn touched roosts,
breaking the promise of light born in peace
by celebrating in song.

Blue and white bells dance in the lightest breeze,
their faces smiling in the morning glow,
reflecting the joy of a perfect Spring.

Down the cliffside, sunlight tumbles,
over thrift and campion, lichen and samphire,
settling in gleaming glory where sea caresses fallen rock.

The sun has risen on a sleeping world.