Small frightened faces,

Iron and Rust,

sharp smell of anger,

Gunflash and Dust.

Small frightened faces,

sharp smell of fear,

cries of the wounded

cries of the dying,

Iron and Rust

Iron and Rust.

Call for their loved ones

caught up in the rush,

small moonlit faces

who can they trust,

Gunflash and Dust

Gunflash and Dust.

Be still and be silen...

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My 6-year-0ld self, - overcome with awe,

listens to the rumble and the rattle

as looms, majestically swept in unison,

back and forth across the vast mill floor.

Turbaned women shouted above the din

unperturbed by the continual motion.

Then on to the old covered market,

clutching my wicker, child-sized basket

and getting lost among the myriad of legs,

unnerved by rou...

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Thunder headed brooding knoll

heathered black and heavy green,

ravined by waters cutting edge

flushing silver silted streams.

Pebble bright mosaic gullies

delta into waiting hollows,

water, smoothing grey silk slime,

flooding meadows, forming pools.

Bog grass floats a yellow raft

birches filter curlews cry,

fallow slots, precision printed,

sharp...

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With lacklustre eyes

and steel-trap jaws

the BLACK DOG trots - -

- - unbidden,

angst-riven

mist hidden

at heel

keeping pace - -

- - maintaining the space

in a chilling embrace

of raw power - -

- - Overwhelming

fear ascending,

tears descending

it tightens the grip

that controls the measure- -

- - increasing the press...

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The drummin' has a rhythm

an' the rhythm has a beat

the drummin' is in rhythm

with the tappin' of our feet

I'm dancin' to the rhythm

an' the rhythm aint the blues

I can hear the guitar singn'

an' I'm shakin' in my shoes

Yeah! I hear the guitar singin'

an' it's singin' to my soul

I hear the drummer drummin'

that beat from long ago

music's gettin' louder

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I walked

these flint scatterd fields

when time was mine,

my stride more sure,

and, with hips in line,

inclines went unnoticed.

Freedom -

my ever-tempting lure

led me to this chalky down

where once,

amongst the gleaming

jag-edged flints,

sinewed ploughmen

walked with furrow-limps.

But in the deep and ancient pass

this land was water-washed

and se...

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I've grown weary of being shouted at,

this shed is mine, I know my rights,

I should be free to enter

without sitting tenant fights

discussions or discordant voices.

And yet it's I who apologizes

as I subserviently creep away,

backing out of the door

as though afraid of an affray.

I give in - give up and acquiesce

to this  outraged bully who controls

that ...

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I love to hear her laugh,

belly bubbling

throat clutching

outrageous chuckles.

It starts from deep inside

then fills her eyes

with a merriment that must be shared,

unimpaired

by self imposed restriction

or inhibitions

demanded by our adult role.

We join her in her laughter,

forming a curtain,

her defence against the world. 

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Beneath these mossy skeletal trees

I have a sense of light and shade

soft air and mist

deep bedded moss

crisp leaves in drifts

of sloping banks

fast flowing streams

crystal splashed

pebble dashed

I have a sense

of waiting

of relating

a sense of being

a sense of seei...

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AH!  Corra,

Your approach is fearless,

your dark eyes intense,

all knowing,

you show your confidence,

even arrogance.

Receiving my gift

you bury it

with dexterity,

leaving me perplexed.

Friendship is all I ask,

you look intrested

but complete your task

before coming closer,

asking for more.

What comes next

a peanut? you ask,

you strut towards...

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The narrow street is as it always was,

its uneven pavements cracked and untended

patchy grass bordering its crumbling edges.

Frayed ropes still hang from bowed lamp posts

and tired gardens still hide behind struggling hedges.

Apologetic paths lead to faded front doors

while sightless windows, opaque and unblinking,

blank the flat stares of those walking past. 

Back all...

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I gaze into the pool -

the pool gazes back,

a dark unblinking eye,

surface perfectly flat.

No ripples or reflections,

a natural sump

a bitter cup.

Almost round

with sloping sides

no iris or reeds 

to soften its banks,

no dragonflies

or bathing birds,

just dark, brown black

surface perfectly flat.

Above the pool

mosquitoes dance

a h...

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These fine men

are British through and through,

they know when to doff their caps

and what is more ------ who to.

They're famous for their quad bikes,

their terriers, nets, and sacks,

with wooden crates both fore and aft

and bait bags on their backs.

As masters of their craft

they'll work both night and day,

enabling the 'Masters'

to indulge in make-believe pl...

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I am a poet,

not the usual kind,

simple perhaps,

folksy, if in truth defined.

My roots are strong

and firmly anchored

in this fertile earth,

I recognize their worth

and I am happy

This life of mine

lived within my bounds

needs no embellishment,

no artificial dressing,

So here I am,

restricted by age,

mobility and terain, 

defiant ...

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Don't hide behind your anger

it's a phase that cannot last,

age will dull your raw emotions

now your youth is in the past.

Facts, replaced by tales of fiction

reveal a sad and damaged soul,

exposing needs and lonely hunger,

ignoring that which makes you whole.

Unbridled rage is an addiction

that controls a troubled mind,

is this the reason for rejection

w...

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Grey dogs panting

straps restraining

freed from their slips.

Brown hair trembling

wild heart racing

a scream on her lips.

Brown hair running

lungs bursting

stretching her length.

Grey dogs coursing

muscles revealing 

their power and strength.

Black night enfolding

grey dogs creeping 

hunter retreating

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I have an overwhelming sense

of something missing,

a sense of loss -

perhaps a memory long gone.

A sense once shared across the generations,

by those that went before -

and - maybe - by those who follow on.

A sense that lets the spoken word fall silent,

while shared thoughts pass

through time and space,

revealing secret leyland traces,

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What is truth?

Does truth change with weighted words

that reinvent themselves to change the basic story?

repeating personal history,

untroubled by reality,

overruling louder voices

when we demand our rightful choices,

leaving us confused,

searching,

researching,

re-researching,

           leaving our questions unanswered.

This is outdated no...

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My boundaries are not defined

by gender,

or by age,

but by hedges,

the perfect definition of edges.

This then is my domain,

my place to write,

a place of personal reflection

and tounge-in-cheek confection.

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We played in the street when we were kids,

gathering around 'our' lampost like it was a totem,

making music with dustbin lids.

Well!

 that was 'til the 'rude-boys' came

in their metal-shod brown boots,

they played a different game

swamping the air with harsh laugter.

And the fighting?

Well!

that came soon after.

We stood back from the ...

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This unassuming flower

punches well above its weight,

it can't be underestimated

the difference it can make.

It boosts our self-opinion 

when we are feeling lost and low,

but when we get above ourselves

it's our comeupance blow.

So here's to our flowers

and the difference that they make,

spreading seeds of inspiration

in the hope they'll germinate.  

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Mosses thrive well on these old stones

obliterating epitaphs

eulogizing these once loved bones,

victims of our inglorious past

their weighted die was early cast,

the price of avarice and empire.

Now there's no one left to pray,

bugles are silent -

Colours rotted away -

all that remains - a broken Cross -

a splintered, irrelevent, token Cross,

forsaken and...

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Flocks of autumn crows

feast on scattered corn

in newly stubbled fields.

Greedily they feed

before the onset

of winter scarcities.

Wise birds these,

resourceful,

successful,

each maintaining its own personal space

aware that together - -  they are safe,

and that sentinels will rise

to ward off dangers from the skies.

Paradoxically we ...

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I wish that I could build a nest

of feathered down

a deep retreat -

a place of safety

and hold you there

and let you sleep -

without re-occurring dreams

 - -   or voiceless fears

I wish that I could build a nest

a warming hug - -

a comfort for your future

where the tangled bonds that bind

fall fast away -

- and free your mind

...

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You don't understand

that what you think I said

is not what I meant

what I meant to say

is not what I said

what I did say

was not what I meant

and now I have to say

that I forgotten what I  said

or what I meant

but what I did say

I said with good intent

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Jagged white screams

sharpen to icicles

brittle tears lie scattered

and ground under foot

diamond cut streams

lost in the labyrinth

fast frozen in time

at the moment of truth.

Holder of secrets

the cut glass of plenty

sharp as a dagger

the chilling white wine

cruel as a cutting edge

shards of bright silver

encrusted with sapphires

co...

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I hear the soft thrum

the pulse of the drum

far - far in the distance

- - spurring us on -

- louder now louder

a thunderous sound

demanding - insistant

vibrating the ground

beating out the old rhythams

-  -  turning us round - -

- - drawing ever nearer

controlling our minds

hearts beat to the rhythms

drums beat across time

an emerg...

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Written for Paul who has had his  problems.

Clouds gathering

not the lazy drifting

feather floating

clouds that I have come to love

but a tumult of thunderheads

a boil of molten lead

energy laden

burden heavy

explosion ready

rapidly closing the gap

on the final glimpse of summer blue

the glimpse of what was

the glimpse of what can't be

of birds that c...

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I lay my colours down

one over the other

creating hues

and shades

that drift like smoke

across the page

creating scenes

that change and change about

abstract curves

that curl and swirl

and change direction

at my whim

autumnal trees

intertwine within my mind

with springtime scenes

of life and birth

of waking earth

then softly fa...

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Fear screams

through a fragile mind

while those who pass

are deaf and blind

to the the world

beyond their focus.

Commuters hurry

and heels tap tap

as snows first flurry

covers the back

of the dooway's

destitute sleeper

The bottled spirit

held loose in the hand

that's too cold to respond

to the feeble command

of a wreck of a man

who ...

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Now take heed and understand

we are the Dreamers of this land,

we're not blessed with winning ways

and may look like waifs and strays,

but remember this - we have a place,

a part to play - a path to trace.

When you speak of us be kind

for we have the power to soothe your mind.

The songs we write that bring you joy,

and the pretty phrases we employ

to ca...

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This ancient art

and feral craft aligned

deeds the wish that dams the silver stream

and turns the torrent into stagnant pools.

- and who shall seek

- and who shall find

those shallow prints of padding feet

whose owner instigates divide and rule.

the blind are left to lead the blind

the lame can only sit and wait

while men who claim that noble ...

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I am the mist that cools and soothes

parched valleys.

I am the iridescence trapped inside fat raindrops

that rehydrate half empty pools

and swell reluctant rivers.

I am air,

I am breeze,

I am the wavelets that play games

in sunlit seas.

I am light.

I breathe and share my breath -

- I share my very being.

I am no ancie...

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You don't have to understand,

that's what they said,

just believe - have faith,

don't doubt the things

that God has planned.

                                        That's what they said.

You are blessed,

faith is a gift

given to a chosen few,

it's up to you

to make the best of it.

                                         That's what they said.

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Beak gaping - head held high,

he hurls his heart

at the leadening sky.

No tremulous songster this,

no shy diva,

but a full-throated singer -

- lionized.

The gathering storm,

thunderheads boiling,

tension mounting,

while his small form,

bravely defies

stabs of white lightning.

Wild aria rising-

                rising ...

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Flocks of autumn crows

glean the scattered corn

from newly stubbled fields,

greedily they feed

before the onset

of winter's scarcities.

Wise birds these  -  -

Resourceful  -  -

Successful - -

Each maintaining it's own personal space,

aware that together - they are safe,

and that sentinels will rise

to ward off dangers from the skies.

...

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The guns are silent now

packed away into shiny cars

with much back slapping

and well bred haar-ha-hars.

The birds are flying well,

not too high - or fast,

plenty of time to 'aim and squeeze'

and watch them tumbling,

tumbling,

tumbling

onto early morning grass,

necks routinly rung -

and then in braces -

          - strung and hung...

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I am a women well past my prime,

born to obey,

to acquiesce,

to follow always were I am led

-  -  -  - my Mother's daughter.

As I watch my younger Sisters rise

I hide the envy in my eyes

and wish them well,

I'm happy for them.

Now in reflective mood

I recognize the age-old strategy,

depress the spirit, crush the child,

produce a servant meek ...

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This England

this land of pleasant green

"Long live The King"

"Britannia rules the waves"

and other jingoistic phrases

that were used,

while flags were waved,

so many years ago.

This England

that grew fat on trading slaves

and subjugation,

the struggling poor controlled

by lack of education.

This England,

a land of pleasant green

whe...

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Will you walk with me

will you walk

step for step

stride for stride

across the freedom fields

where dreams fly wild

Will you sing with me

will you sing

note for note

verse for verse

in that place where song-birds trill

and wildflower seeds disperse

Will we falter on the way

will we falter

cease to talk

cease to walk

where our chos...

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Russian Soldier,

did you know that you might die?

now here you lie -

discarded and alone -

scattered limbs flung far and wide

undocumented  -  lost  -  unknown,

no one to mourn your passing,

There'e no romance in death,

there is no glory -

no Heaven -

Heaven is a myth - devised by those

who sent you to your death,

to insti...

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We follow the hedges

in our time honoured way

around dusty field edges

gathering wild plums and berries

thinking of puddings and jellies

                      warming winter delights.

from the garden

french beans picked

packed and quick frozen

red tomatoes mushed into sauce

bread still warm from the oven

autumn is running it's course

        ...

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I sit - - -

My book lies open before me

but I am not reading,

enclosed by cushions, I am just lounging

and casually watching a program. -

The News - - -

Shells bursting - panic - Oh! see how they run - - -

seeking shelter - seeking safety - seeking in vain -

shelling again - -

The cry is "Man Down" - cameras zoom in

then swiftly away,

the scene not suitab...

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I am a poet,

not the fashionable sort -

more folksy in origin - more of the earth,

my roots grow deep,

I understand their worth and

I'm proud of that connection.

These hands, that nurtured life

and processed death, are now repurposed -

the knife, replaced by pen and brush

faithfully record the upward rush

of creativity's urgent need.

Gravity's pull remains a consta...

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Dear Flyntland

I like your poem m'dear

but not enough to print it,

it's good that you don't make a fuss

but I don't think  you're one of us,

do I know you?

I think that I'd remember - we are so few.

Are you qualified?

do you teach by day and write by night,

where did you study?

Ah! Yes! I thought that I was right

your poem is so commonplace,

You're new, an...

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It's over now

the sands have run

there's no return

this thing is done,

and joy belongs to yesterday

when we were sure of our tomorrows.

My son you were my other self

my present - and my future

and now this ash - this inert ash

is all I have - is all I am,

if I could ask - if you could say,

if we could change the outcome - - -

                  - - - but it'...

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Soft soapy water

spilling through my outstretched hand

so hard to hold

like windblown smoke

or shifting sand.

Whispererd voices

without sesitivity or grace

while practiced smles

conceal the lie

behind each shining face.

Soft soapy water

filtering through my wearying hand

dissolves my innocence,

while gods own godless daughter

asserts her cold con...

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Her voice still shrills down through the years

sharp with accusations - -

- - but confident in the knowledge

of her right to be right.

Discouraging ambitions

was a parental duty,

Knowing ones place was duly taught

firmly blocking any rebelliouse thought.

"Girl remember you're a servant

don't step above your station

your working class  -

you don't ne...

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I follow my own footsteps

always walking in circles

but I can't find the point

- - - or the reason

I go over old ground

- going round - ever round

obsessing the debate

getting nowehere.

Do we share the same demons

that mock from the shadows

- is that our shared birthright

do we share the same fate

- -  do you walk in circles

then I'll walk right beh...

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