With a week to go befiore Christmas, I thought I'd ignore the noise and controversy and focus instead on music and hope

Mary Sang

Mary sang, a fine contralto, deep and pure.
Joseph played bass, metronomic, steady, 
the beat nailed to the floor.
He thought the boy should play guitar
and made him one from fine cedar;
strings of camel gut, fret board inlaid
with finest golden sa...

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This music,

it makes me want to fall from the water

float in the sky,

stare at those lips

and kiss those green eyes,

drink from the clouds

and jump on the pond

to feel the stars

and gaze at the stones,

the rythms , the notes

melt my mind

ignite my visible voice

I'm not here nor there

maybe inside a void

floating on the blues

maybe its a d...

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Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN:https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-eight-09-06-2020

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us, 
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension 
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every 

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance 
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. I...

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Her fingers tracing mine
Lily danced me out of the garden
those green eyes brimming lively 
with purest abandon
Then barefoot on the boardwalk
her summer dress riding high
she leapt onto the jetty 
and gestured to the sky

We let our tanned legs hang below
as we bottomed up the bottle
the air was hot and heavy
the sea around us peaceful
There was lust upon our minds
as a veil upon a ...

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When you told me we were done

That you were thinking of leaving

I tried my best to mend my ways

For dread you'd leave me grieving

I've lately grown used to keeping

The hours that blackbirds keep

Awake by your side till dawn breaks

A condemned man waiting for sleep

On tenterhooks I just get by

Waiting for your decision

Blackbirds sing their songs

With exqu...

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That scenic chorus paints pride blended tears

as suspended droplets thrum euphoria

those watchers notice, its nuance foreign.

They’ve never heeded- never recognised

the harmony befriending delicate words

that welcomed wrung emotions on inches.

rare colloquial feelings pouring traces

left to the table.

The playing record that tugs at my arm

to appear closer, pulling at ...

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