Memory (Remove filter)
Song of the Sunflower
`
Was it the yellow of your bright petals
or the way you danced in the breeze
that I brought you home from fields?
Was it the strength of your upright stalks
or the camaraderie, your solidarity?
There in the sun you sang hope,
songs that filled a mourning heart;
there in the wind you whispered
plaintive farewells on conflicted air-
fill this grieving with consolat...
Sunday 19th December 2010 1:32 pm
Collecting light
We are bathing in light,
resting from shadow,
lamenting through night.
home fires are burning
in coloured glass jars,
flickering bright.
An afterglow of sweet memories
breaths soft contented sighs.
Moons fluid silk shimmers beyond sky.
Peppered Moth defies instinct
seeking safe illumination,
from magnetised flight.
We...
Wednesday 15th December 2010 10:27 pm
Kiss, promise, tell
A first kiss promise,
tangibly felt through fearful lips.
Smiling eyes offer more,
more than I could pledge.
Clutching at sunshine,
filtered through a darkened haze.
Through your gaze, expectancy
In your spoken words, urgency.
Writing down lines, where tears soak paper.
Pulling apart seams, a telling intent,
packed into a case, a delibe...
Saturday 4th December 2010 7:25 pm
My Nan sleeps with Brian Jones
‘Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep
He hath awakened from the dream of life’
Jagger tugs weeds, rakes a bed
of graveyard shale,
drags a copper wire brush
through moss lumps
gathered by the guest book
and its dew dribbled plastic bag -
there to keep the water out.
He pulls cart-wheeling cellophane
from his shin,
paints a black shadow across the ultimate ...
Friday 1st October 2010 9:45 pm
Once in every while
Once in every while
it was so nice to talk to you last night,
I need to hear your smile,
so tender, sweet and light,
not so very often
but once in every while.
once I said 'I'm your man'
you replied how...
Thursday 19th August 2010 11:48 am
Early January Snow Blues
There is calmness
Like a Buddhist prayer
On the road
When it snows
And cars are afraid
To come down it.
There is softness
In the trees rustling
When the wind
Shakes it off
Which reminded me
Of my father
When he used
To shake off his boots
Before he stepped back inside
After gritting
The front path.
And as it gets so...
Monday 11th January 2010 1:57 pm
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