QUESTIONING ATTITUDES-:-
conceiving
anticipated
obduracy
typically
perceived
with AFFECTIONATE EMPATHY
harmonised
endlessly
gestures
effectively
stated
in IMPARTIAL ANECDOTALS
fascinatingly
extolled
commonplace
everyday
verbiage
Morning magpies warble loudly
Sitting in the treetops proudly.
Greet us singing, early sunrise
Warble loudly morning magpies.
Melodies sweet always bringing
Early sunrise, greet us singing.
All synchronised twitter and tweet
Always bringing melodies sweet
When together they’re harmonised
Twitter and tweet all synchronised.
Clear sunshine or rainy weather
They're harmonised when together
These magpies I am glad their mine
Rainy weather or clear sunshine.
Around, always habitual
I never miss their ritual.
Inherently people are prone to pry
Wherever there is more than meets the eye.
Black and white, by patent definition,
Dazzle in latent opposition.
Byproduct of a shady interplay -
Panoply of 50 hues of grey.
The contrast between black and white
Is not as trite as day and night.
In former days they harmonised
On the big screen before our eyes.
Beware of black, beware of white -
Clandestine colours out of sight.
He perched himself upon his stage.
He stretched himself up tall.
The Countryside Conductor
Fanned his wings and beckoned all
To join him as he welcomed in
A bright new sunny day,
To bring cheer to any appreciative heart
Who cared to listen on their way.
He belted out his melody
That lasted right to noon!
The sweetest kind of symphony,
The merriest of tunes.
Other voices harmonised
By whistle, croak and tweet.
Of different meaning in the bird world,
To humankind an aural treat!
Somehow too, it makes impact
For when we need a lift out of despair,
We may find ourselves recalling
The conductors tune that filled the air.
we embrace
the unconscious mind
which has no free will
and so acts as impulsed
by universal consciousness
that prior soul agreements
be enacted on earth
ironically such souls
although they are at no fault
atone for their unconsciousness
that debts of love owed
be harmonised restoring balance
in the sphere of oneness
within the cauldron of love
| Oceans - Of Thought |
Harmonised hypothermia sets
through the darkened depth
of the chasm deep,
Like a heavy-weighted wreck
of my linguistic mind.
As blithe planulae float
amongst the turquoise torrents
of the surging tides.
Efflux my porous skin
that secretes the bitter brine,
Void of lust, my halitous breath.
When will I find the courage
that guillotine faith;
cut across these saline soothing shores
That reflects like crystalline glass,
that rips and takes.
But, incompetent to see more;
the calm of the sea.
But under tide
the waves topple above
like whitewash remembrances
Beckoning me to emerge and find,
Flavours of youth
in the lull of the sea
So I begin searching of forever freedoms
in the caress of the breeze.
I say my adieu to the abyss-abundant sea
My love for the ocean;
Is a coral of burnt sienna,
tipped with lanvanda,
and blushing pinks.
The azure's solvent divinity
has annihilated fear
Like an oakum of my sanity
My mind finally carefree.
Nature of love very intense
Consuming all daily thought
Passion engulfs that is immense
No one else needed or sought.
Harmonised heartbeats in tune
Singing from exactly same page
Wrapped in love's own soft cocoon
His ring is worn they are engaged.
How could thing go so awry?
Dreaming hearts are now quite broken
Desolation, painful sigh
After true words of love spoken.
It all began as normal
The fiddler's practice session.
Lively rousing tunes
Were his prime obsession.
A frog leapt suddenly with a croak
On the final rise of the bow.
" Keep playing! We'll collaborate! "
He ordered with a bellow.
The fiddler laughed and asked the frog,
" Do you know any songs? "
With widened eyes, patience worn thin,
He yelled, " Just play! I'll croak along! "
He did just so and to his surprise
They harmonised quite well.
Though the frog was bossy and rather rude,
The fiddler fell under his spell.
Since their first rehearsal
The local towns and pubs they tour.
The fiddler obeys the frogs commands
So his ears don't get sore.
Written 18th January 2023
For: The Fiddler and The Frog Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
The walls open their eyes as
the mantids begin to weave
a loving celestial vibe, incensing
the onset of this boundless drive
Not questioning if one will retain
sentience, escaping for a time
confinement within her hive
machine-like serpentine's
propel mega metallic craft
exerting complex, magically carved
oaken ores
opening dimensional gateways
ascending straight-through
intensified vibrational planes
utilising the great wave
unlocking these secret doors
Fantastic crystal-blue eyed
gnomes with iridescent feather
shaped cheekbones perform
a dance, whilst oscillating
their elongated gold spoons
Traces of a nameless ancient face on
innumerable orange-pinkish moons
within vast space, divinely harmonised
eternally ringing out in high tune
Mandolin melodies harmonised horizons,
yet the only strings being strummed
were those of my heart.
In the midst of enchanting melodies,
where nothing else mattered, but her,
we wandered barefoot, hand in hand,
as the tenderness of our steps decorated the sand.
In the simplicity of pure beauty, lost in a moment of perfection.
We lay admiring the heavens, watching daylight drift away.
The jealous golden orb silently sank, as colourful skies summoned
illuminated expressions to light up a black and white world.
In darkness we lay and gazed
lost in the silent serenity of the stars,
until the tranquillity of her sequin eyes
hypnotised my soul and I danced devoted
to the magnificence of her delicate elegance.
The whisper of sweet sentiments
revealed our secret serenade.
In the distance an orchestra of humming birds
hummed the chorus of our passionate song.
Her arms like celestial wings, embraced me close.
Her surreal kiss guided my lips home.
As waves washed away our footsteps,
the moon closed its eyes, as millions of shy stars
hid behind a blanket of nocturnal clouds.
Silent One
Simple Musings
10 December 2017
I felt the sunshine from ochre swirl, it set my face alight,
It tumbled from the whitest pearl, as I remembered about delight.
The cooling of the deepest seas, that could illuminate the dark,
Held me in their empathy, in some dream I will gladly embark.
A soft tone whispered into my soul, and harmonised within,
An impossible yet now achievable goal, a wonder, a beauty, a win.
A wealth of stories I want to hear, tales of hurt, and of love, and bliss,
I'd stop them in their tracks even though, if I dared to steal a kiss.
The future's brighter every hour, filled with blushes and smiles and glee,
I observe it as a summer shower, more importantly it sees into me.
A journey I am ready to begin, while I nurture and love the surprise,
I will let out all I've hidden within, but I will keep your butterflies.
Elegant frequent interludes
Ebony and ivory harmonised
The maestro raises his hands
A single note from a violin
Reverberates the soul within
Piano keys dance the storm
Conductor's baton waves the way
The orchestra now as one
Vibrations pounding in my heart
Sweet cellos and harps sing
Two dueling clarinets take front stage
Silhouetted angels fill the mind
As the beating of timpanis start
A fluttering flute swiftly flies
With dulcet melodies swirling about
A double bass begins the final coda
Then blissfully, I open my eyes
Jettison the code of silence...
tune in to the understand...
Boot straps are a tightened....
controversial harmonised...
rebirth the code resilience...
critically acclaimed aware...
The tar that once stuck
to the sole of our shoes...
...Has all but disappeared...
Some sense the new beginning...
...the chaos they avert...
...The code has been rewritten...
...a reply yielded
The code will serve us well...
In the silence we rethink...
BIRD FLOCK
In the fading light’s vast expanse
Autumn evening’s graceful dance
Flock of starlings countless, harmonised
One way, now another, synchronised
Black-out the sky, then film-thin
Venetian blinds opening up, closing in
Pulsing wave of birds rolling over the sunset with ease
As one dynamic creature turning in the breeze
Each bird an orchestrated part
Titan making love to the ocean’s heart
As if its whole life were what it gave
Thrashing in wave after sensuous wave
Its eyes open and close
In a giant climax and its throes.
...............................
NOTE
Seeing these marvellous bird displays is one of the delights of country living.
We saw this performance every autumn evening on the Irish coast.
My palette is my imagination.
I paint pictures with my words.
Swirling colours of composition.
Mixing metaphors - agitating them
with the paintbrush in my mind.
My vocabulary is my keyboard.
Trilling notes of expression.
Crescendo of composition...
tumbling, falling....allegro, or
andante, and harmonised in my creativity.
My glossary is my tapestry.
Fixed firmly to the frame of verbal
inventiveness. Stitched in synchronacity.
Cross stitched sometimes - or
tacked in draft for later publication.
I cannot sing to you in thrilling arias.
I cannot paint for you on colourful canvas.
I cannot play for you in perfected pitch.
I cannot hang my works of art,
but I can write what's in my heart -
and, maybe, I'll touch yours?
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