Wednesday 31 December 2014

The azzure hills

I love it when clouds appear as hills
Of tufts of grey amidst winter's chill,
Dullset underneath azzure skies.

The frosted sun casts a misty shadow
Over slopes melting under watercoloured glow
As the rising dew obscures milky light.

My love at once had felt such thrill
But met a heart shivering still.
Alas those clouds descended into night.

Tuesday 30 December 2014

What choice do we have?

Does the butterfly choose where a gust takes the wing,
While the buzzard buffers the thermal wind?

The owl swoops in moonlight but does he decide
How silver the glint or the rush of the tide?

The pit viper patiently waits for the shrew,
Though is this a will for the prey passing through?

Do we know how we've made the choices we have?
Maybe that's kind, maybe I'm glad.

Maybe the mind, entangled with time,
Can accept what we have and the choices we've had.

Tuesday 9 December 2014

Perplexed

Perpetually perplexed but never apoplectic,
Sometimes she smiles, the smile is septic.
Through ups and downs she often frowns
But my brow's much fonder of laughing.


Monday 8 December 2014

Recalcitrance

A pillock is a pillock but sometimes the rays
Of the the sunny forecast smother the truth.
It's hard to see through the soggy, misty mire
But eventually, you see, the pillock shines through.

Monday 24 November 2014

Fickle them all

The fledgling flees the nest and flies,
The starling raps its head and dies,
The cuckoo feigns to lay the nest,
The chick thus shrieks to egg's unrest.
The magpie steals its silver loot,
The dolllar's one and two's the coot,
The Moorhen rifles through the reeds,
The bittern hides from bitter breeze.
The heron stands, upright and tall,
The swan is fickle, fickle them all.

Tuesday 18 November 2014

Homeostasis

I don't feel warm,
I don't feel cold.
I just am.

Just to be is just to be,
The freezing winds,
The sunny beach.

My coat is warm,
My goosebumps prickle
But life is long
While seasons are fickle.

Tuesday 4 November 2014

The worm

Immersed when it's sunny
And surfaced under weather,
The tunnels always twist and turn.

The softened segments never change
As the earthworm crawls,
Sometimes it contracts but then it sprawls. 

Saturday 25 October 2014

Fighting against a brick wall

I'm flinging my battered fist at the stubborn wall
But as the cracks grow the cement only thickens.
Turns out quantum mechanics is as tall a story
With lyrics as it is with cats.

In all honesty the wall stands firm, submurged,
As the pounding message rebounds and recoils,
And I stand, foiled once again by my own flimsy sword
Wishing I'd chosen a fence.

Three little words

Three little words,
Never too hard to say,
Or to show,
Not for me anyway.

Wednesday 22 October 2014

Pictures of you

In my dreams last night, just before I rose,
At the bottom of the garden I spied a rope.
On that rope hung a row of passports,
Inside each one was a picture of you.

Sunday 19 October 2014

My all is my all

My all is all I have to give,
My all is all I have ever given.
My all is all the soul I have to spare,
My all is all I have,
The love I have to share.

Friday 20 June 2014

Life is a flower

Life is a flower,
At first it's a struggle.
Dormant for years,
Then sun sparks a surge.

It's tough to emerge,
The thorns lay around,
And brambles lay thick
As the rabbits nibble down.

But come better days,
When shoots become stems,
And stems become trunks
For the resting Wren.

What then, but to flower?
And flowers will grow.
But sometimes in life,
Blossom springs through the snow.

Monday 2 June 2014

Merci, Auntie Kath, et adieu

In little clothes with little bags,
Each Wednesday better than the last,
We'd wait at school for Auntie Kath
And then in Harwood search for snacks.

We took them back and set up shop,
The kitchen table littered with chocolate.
But none for us, until we'd asked
For sweets in French, then paid in Francs.

Je voudrais un mars bar s'il vous plait,
Bien sûr, monsieur, et voila.
Je suis desolé, mais qu'est-ce que c'est?
C'est la barre Mars que vous avez demandé!

I loved those days and every week
Aunt Kath bequeathed more words to speak.
She made it so much fun, as well,
Her enthusiasm shone, and still now it tells.

I learned so much from Auntie Kath,
Of how to teach, and inspire, with laughs.
It was never a chore, it was always a blast,
And it's testament to Kath that her teaching lasts.

Quite rightly, Kath, takes all the praise,
For our GCSE and A-level grades.
She taught me more by year nine,
Than school could teach me in twice the time.

Although I can't speak fluently,
- Let's face it, Joanne was always better than me -
I've friends in France, and when there's chance,
It all comes back so easily.

Thank you Kath, for all those days,
For all those words which we can say.
I miss those days, but I'll miss you more,

Merci, Auntie Kath, et adieu.


Monday 21 April 2014

The elephant and the mouse

Astride the translucent elephant,
I ride next to an opaque mouse.
And by the by, the elephant sighed,
As a mouse scurried off to hide.

"It's I! It's I" A mouse softly cried,
While my elephant stumbled.
She looked in a mirror, and saw right through her,
With little yellow stripes in her eyes.

"But how can this be?" A chameleon said to me,
"An elephant and mouse, together and free?"
Said I to the lizard, "How can you not see?
My elephant is scared, not of mouse, but of trees."

"Of trees?"  Said chameleon, "Oh how can this be?
The elephant has trunk, and so does the tree."
Said I to the lizard, "My friend loves honey,
But my, oh my, is she scared of bees!"

Monday 10 February 2014

The Climbing Toadflax

In red brick terrace yards, in spring, we sprawl,
Orbicular leaves form a vivid green swathe
Across the rain dampened concrete, we bathe,
Our roots are shallow, but steadfast to the walls.
In summer, we thrive, amid the suns rays,
We litter each inch with zygomorphic bloom,
While yardowners try to suppress us with broom,
But yet we pebbledash in purple the shade.
Retreat in the autumn does not spell us doom,
In winter we shrink but stay close in the cold,
No frost, no drought, nor wind can make us fold,
As we wait for the spring, and sweet summer's swoon.
    For what is mightier, than trees tall and old,
         If not the toadflax, which lines every road?

Saturday 8 February 2014

How the world should be

This is how the world should be
I walked into a shop, and the owner smiled at me.
And as I breached the boundary, she beamed,
The broadest smile, and in she drew me.

I stood, engaged, in a half hour discussion,
At first a bit shocked, a minor concussion.
It's rare in this world that someone stops to chat,
In inner city stores conversation truly lacks.

It took me aback, but stayed I did,
I listened to tales of when recession hit.
No work for a Masters in Plymouth, no more,
But learning to sew made her dreams, for sure.

She wore a tape-measure 'round her neck,
And joyfully weaved her tale in my head.
Her husband a doctor, no jobs on the roster,
So she opened a shop, and never has it cost her.

She's happy, she's glad, she'll never be sad,
She follows her passion and her passion flows back.
And how I admired the bags on the rack,
The dresses, the jewellery, and mostly, the chat.

Tuesday 21 January 2014

The woes are beset

I paddle, I stretch, I rudder, I sweat,
As the raging torrents batter and tear.
My paddle, no more, than a twig for an oar,
All around me my woes are beset.

Monday 20 January 2014

Plodding on

Grimacing against the splattering rain
No matter how hard you plod on,
It feels there's nothing left to gain
All soaked, cold, and downtrodden.
Onward, into wind, which slaps the face,
Chastening with bluster.
Stronger it seems, with each step and pace,
When strength is hard to muster.
But muster it does, and muster it will,
And masters all had to muster a skill.
Amidst the strain, it's foreboding and bleary,
But the end is in sight, and get there you will.

Sunday 19 January 2014

The winter road

Astride the weary, winter road
Forlorn with wind and rain,
Weathered from the thawing cold
And cracked in fissured veins.
The breeze blasts the blighted boughs
No littered leaves, long fallen.
The twisted trunk makes sighs and vows
To never yield, though swollen.
The rugged roots like robust troops
Spread far beneath the soil.
Sailing in a soggy soup,
The earthworms surface, the snails recoil.