My Bicycle of Imagination
The day and I are hand in hand,
brimming with a zippety-whippity-do.
I sit atop my saddle, my bicycle, my hill;
the morning mist is ragged like candy floss
on barbed wire, waggled fences.
Below a liquorice-tarmacked road
elbows through a mosaicked landscape;
churned fields sitting either side,
serrated into channels of earth;
suited and rooted in browned corduroy.
Then further on and along,
the sky sits sedately on the sea,
resting on a blue, rippled settee,
just out of close reach
of a mustard scarf of a beach.
Clouds rear - wild, white stallions;
they settle, then away at a gallop,
racing, chasing the prize in
the finishing line, the horizon.
Watch out, speedy swallow,
now, it’s my time to follow!!
I sense my bicycle’s stalled frustration,
so my body engine sets it free;
muscles tighten, pedals spin,
it’s time to fly, time to check in.
Off we go…wind pushing at my heels,
sunlight splashing off the wheels
down I swoop, a dance of balance;
the bike glides, the road slides.
Watch me come, watch me go
connecting, perfecting with nature’s flow;
sky, land and sea…………WEEEEEEEEEEE!
We see his quiet gentle face
Unchanging throughout time
Transfixed today in colored space
Depicted in his prime
And with a loving mournful gaze
From pensive eyes of white and blue
He gazes down on mankind’s maze
Through beautiful mosaicked hues
From the brilliance of the sun
That the polished sand reflects
Midst the prisms our pure one
Ne’er a little one rejects
From a constant fragile place
In our souls his rays do pass
From his red our sin erased
May our hearts be like stained glass
Trinity Church, Boston
3.5.18
Your love is lost your heart is shattered
mosaicked by a complex of cracks,
wordy weapons leave it tattered
the battle scars of life’s attacks.
Shrouded in a blanket of pain,
you think love’s gone, remote, extinct,
in time it will rekindle again
for life and death are closely linked.
In dark despair, pique's deepest cold
is thawed in the refiners furnace,
there love's small fruit is turned to gold
a warmth you can tenderly embrace.
There those battered shards are gently gilt
becoming a new love token,
where repaired and lovingly rebuilt
you’re more beautiful for being broken
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