"Reach high, for stars lie hidden in you. Dream deep, for every dream precedes the goal."
Rabindranath Tagore
Soul seeks splendor, sweetly sent stream.
Destiny delivers drab dismal dream.
Dictating, dawn's dew delight.
Raptures reminisce rivalled respite.
Frosts found frozen, fall freed.
Sycamore scents send somber seed.
Supreme silence, so softly swept.
in a yellow woods
i chose the path less leaf strewn
as beauty still clung
reds and oranges mixed
browns swirled in last minute
as autumn breathed
September ends
The first cool mornings
The fresher breath
The blue cold skies
It leaves remains of summer
And what was
The heat and hope
And now it's gone
So onwards to a greyer time
The earth softened and cooled
Rains that dissolve us
Mists that return like old friends
Nature rolls on forwards
Reminds of life and death
Decay that will spring new life
When the time is right
So breathe in the new airs ether
Bathe in gentler light
Walk to frosts and fog now
Embrace retuning feelings
You've known them from before
The nest is naked
Crass and cruel
It is not for sparrows.
Any berries I eat
Taste like acrid ash
Spilling out of my beak.
Above, are haughty eagles
Claws full of meaty mice
Swooping high above trees.
My marbled eyes can only stare
Hungry, so hungry for belonging
And not even the branches hold me.
A fall, a tumble—
All it would take to dive
Deep into the Earth's clay.
Would it be as cold as this?
When the rain beads off my feathers?
When the wind frosts my lashes?
I am certain She would spit me out
A carcass of plastic bird bones
To be reborn as the same sparrow.
It was in the depths of winter 2010
At minus ten degrees.
There were silver wires of spider webs
And bare hardy trees.
Through the mist of my exhalation
A feeling beyond belief -
I stop and admire with fascination
The glittering outline of this hedgerow leaf.
It was stiffened by the hoar frosts sting,
Glossed by the kiss of daylight,
Holding on tight in a breezy swing,
Its crystallised edges sparkling bright.
Is it true that if you imagine cold scenes
You'll feel cold too? Worth a go!
In this heatwave I'll think of crystallised leaves
And how frost on frost can grow.
wars won or lost
heavy cost paid
heart frosts love dies
What would you say, if you had heard
The news that came today
Or rather you won’t say a word
News come and go their way
What would you say, or maybe think
To say, but you won’t do
Would you prefer another drink
To help the time pass through?
It must be hard to find a peace
For those who live to fight
But how can we relate to this
Who knows what else they might?
Come drink my wine, bring up your bread
The music sounds blue
What would you say if all is said
And done, like you would do?
There'll be gale winds, and bending trees
And sun, and rain, and snow
More boats and ships in deep blue seas
And after frosts a thaw
You are the guiding light, my dear
I'll follow you some day
What would you think, if you can hear
The words I didn't say?
She willed in tempered frosts
that hidden,
without consternation
the pew should call his name
Pale pink shadow,
of hushed cheek
Knowing her rose in origin,
and passages through,
a shameful pride began his edifice,
as her joys sculpted his rituals
As the Autumn season flourishes
And wealthy colours abound
And underfoot you're crunching leaves
Of Copper and Gold scattered around
And to add to its riches,
The first frosts, Silver brings!
"Lift up your eyes to heaven and see,
Who has created these things?"
When you hear the Seagull's laughter
And the chuckle of the Hen,
Nocturnal creatures announcing their presence
Though they stay hidden in their den,
When you feel your heart take flight
When a Robin hops close to you and sings,
"Lift up your eyes to heaven and see,
Who has created these things?"
When you see arrangements of colour
That wouldn't normally work well together,
When we feel reminded of our place
By the power of the weather,
When we appreciate nature
Oh what joy and refreshment it brings!
"Lift your eyes up to heaven and see,
Who has created these things?"
We have someone to thank for this
For these gifts are expressions of love
From a person who cares about how we feel
And he's watching from above.
He wants us to find happiness
His creation soothes us through our pain,
And all Jehovah asks of humankind
Is for them to think upon his name.
( Isaiah 40:26 )
All England, blinking nervously, is out!
A little mild spell, much to our surprise,
has brightened frowsy February skies.
We sniff the air with nostrils schooled in doubt.
Baffled by balm, the fruit trees have misfired.
Like foolish virgins, hurrying on their scarves,
They've pushed out blooms half-petaled and half-starved.
The coming frosts will slice them like cheese-wire.
And I have loved you far too eagerly.
My half-cocked hopes have withered on the bough.
I should have doled my sweets more meagerly -
then, had I granted space, and time, and light,
your hobbled feelings might have taken flight,
in any time or place - but England. Now.
for the children of the Holocaust, Ukraine and Gaza
Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails
when thunder howls
when hailstones scream
when winter scowls
when nights compound dark frosts with snow
where does the butterfly go?
Where does the rose hide its bloom
when night descends oblique and chill,
beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill?
When the only relief’s a banked fire’s glow,
where does the butterfly go?
And where shall the spirit flee
when life is harsh, too harsh to face,
and hope is lost without a trace?
Oh, when the light of life runs low,
where does the butterfly go?
As sunlight paints all in gold
A cresting wave
Along a distant bay
Gulls cry high into a clear sky
Its tyrannical son burns all away.
Summer has come
What beautiful decay
As evening dies on horizons blade
A splash of crimson
Deep in forgotten May
Amber n indigo lay lazy on the shores
Autumn lingers behind the day
What beautiful decay
A chill frosts the burnt ground
Ice is deep into tomorrow
Brittle leaves are death shroud
Broken branches reach
Winter’s shadows a frozen sound
What beautiful decay
Withered wishes
lick the sap of spring
and loose all they've held,
except all that dared to
winter in a heart
that clings where hope's
tendrils grow tired and
brittle
and still ~ in their final
vestige of existence,
braved the relentless frosts
and hold firm,
even in their death,
the supple youth that will
bear the fruits of
another season...
A symphony’s no symphony if it is never heard
A poem is no poem at all if it contains no word
A rainy day’s a rainy day unless it brings some joy
A prized possession’s valueless if treated as a toy
A summer is not summer if winter frosts still fall
A bitter heart’s no blessing for it is closed to all
A vintage wine’s no wine to drink without a good bouquet
A love that life has brought to grief must wait another day
A harbour is no harbour if it is open sea
A promise is no promise if not kept faithfully
Glacial sent wet winds to chase out autumn radiance,
Snowdrift saints powdered white many gardens,
Leaving long flakes to peel open the morning ~
Secretly smiling...
Morning emerged radiantly recuperating,
Silence silenced, replaced by stormy sunshine,
Winter's wetness welcomed wholeheartedly ~
Singing for springtide...
Flaky flakes foisted frosts on plenty pavements,
Beautiful blessings brillianty raved a reprieve,
New natural warmth to sweet succour so sought ~
Springtime sunshine.
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