Cloth

Summer comes to slip off cloth

Reveal the winter guarded flesh
To wash in light our hidden coves  
Release aspirations we hid like sirens  
And so long as the warmth holds
We can see each other anew
The young reveal who we were
And we show what they become
And as the summer slips our cloths
We are remade carefree a little while

Redoubtable

This redoubtable insect spitfire

Controlling the burgeoning borders
A scything, predatorous, machine
Hunter-destroyer; ally and marauder
And harry not the warrior
Let her pass and fight
For to hinder her deadly mission
Will make her deploy her might

Concern

Because he wanted to put his wings to the test

The eager little brown bird flew out of the nest
But his new wings were really much too small
And so down to earth he did quickly fall
It was lucky giants found him and put him in a bush
His mum found him, now he's learned not to rush
For little birds with wings that don’t yet flap
When they fly a nest early usually end up in the crap
And this is a lesson we could all do to learn
If something is in trouble then show some concern

Contort

It's not good to be flexible so all the evidence points

So pity the poor Contortia and all her double joints
Soft and supple she twists and flexes like a rubber band
She can shape her fluid body into a flowing ampersand
But all this gymnastic performing will never get her wed  
No man wants a wife with eyes in the back of her head

Fall of Empire

It is always upsetting to accidentally knock a wasp nest down when gardening but they build in the most peculiar places sometimes. It seemed particularly poignant the other day when the spent blossom petals were blowing. Here's hoping she manages to raise another nest somewhere else. Wasps are the unsung and mostly despised angels within the garden. A world without bees would be less sweet but a world without wasps would be a world filled with a lot more bugs.

And the incandescent queen rages

As her paper kingdom is blown away
The empire collapses before it has begun
Topples from high grace to ruinous fibres
Falls amongst the velvet snowdrifts
Where the blossom fails, falls and fades
And the papery coffers of her undertaking
Are emptied of their larval ghosts by the wind
To desiccate and cease under the midday sun
Among the coral petals laid on the sandy dun

 

Dr Who

 

This is me having a Dr Who moment with a model I bought for a pound to use in the garden and a real size replica at BBC Salford. It seemed a good idea at the time.

 

The Rose

When a deer crossed my path

Well then that was a blessing
But when it devoured my rose
Then I knew it could be a curse
This nemesis of the rose in spring
And should I again meet him
Under greening bough at dusk
It is more than a pound of flesh
I shall warrant will be taken
For I shall have his haunch
And it will be venison for tea
And poor Mr Shakespeare
Alas, only a tragedy
Will you write this year

Soldiers

Towering siege engines rise up

The lofty mechanism of assault
And this is no gentle coup
War is now upon us
And nature's green soldiers
Mass upon the boughs and fields
And we may fight it
Become a partisan of order
But we will ever lose
The green tide sweeps the world
And the wise do not fight it
But are carried on its verdant crest
And remain at peace in growth's war

Care

And now all that remains

Are his indentured teeth and worldly pains
The play of a man in its final act
With walking stick and cataract
There was nothing much of him left
Save his anger and frustration
And no one really cared
Save to comment quietly
That his grumpy manner was unseemly
But in his youth not so long ago
Women had vied to be his beau

Silent Spring

Mad as bees we buzz in our excitement

While dogs bark with the fury of geese
But it is quiet in the fields in May
The terranean world is motionless
Though ants still move like dissidents
Milling secretly under the damping earth
With the precision of centurions
But where are the honey gatherers now
This rattle and hum in hedgerow and border
The yellow and black buzzing animation
And still the rain comes down chattering
Watery wings beating upon us like prophecy
And into this we weigh sense against chaos
Only to find all are now driven mad in loss
Like the ants milling in precision in the dark
For none are ever made saner by folly
And the bees they are less than they were
And in turn we are made the lesser also
For a world without bees is no world at all
And the silent spring arrives late and inaudibly

Desire

In my youth came forth desire

Yet twas the smallest of sparks
And never did it erupt
Spill out like a volcanic fury
Into a blaze of passion
And now it is all gone
I know not when or how
Only that once it warmed me
But still I am not spent
Not yet; not while,
There are other fires to be had
Fires that burn with gentler flame
Into the long nights to come
Fires that can never consume me
For what is desire?
But the longing for a release
However that may come

Flying

Seize the new seconds like a reinvention  

Become a hummingbird unleashed to flowers
A furious, swift iridescent dart of motion
Flying out from under the stars into day
Life is swift and full of promises unkept
Keep only one and remain true to yourself
Be beautiful within and pleasant without
Take no lover who cannot become a friend
Create only children to love more than life
And never look back at the unchangeable
Unless to find a better way to go forward
For in the glow of compassion lies truth
And even when night falls the day remains

Cleave

But what is made anew

Survives best
For a brief time
Till perish it must
In instances grasp
Merciless fingers of inevitability
That leaves no trace
Of its clutching victory
We soften away till nothing is left
Not even one ghostly flicker
That could re-ignite
The last memories that remain
We are spent forever
And if it gladdens you
To think otherwise
I will pretend it is not so
Yet ever will the pretence divide us
For you shall have tomorrow
If only in thought
And I only today
And our love will cleave
As our bodies part

Labels

What things can I keep when I have died?

Absolutely nothing my possessions replied
So now I swear this heartfelt appeal
From my Panama hat to my Gucci heels
All my new clothing I intend to wear
Even the ensembles that may make you stare
I've made up my mind I need no persuasion
No more hoarding for a distant occasion
What I no longer want I shall give to you
For it serves no end to keep things brand new

Listen

The wind blows and furies

But never does it still
Not while someone may listen
To its long and airy tale
It is a breeze of compassion
Where our spirits seek solace
In life, or when forever at peace
Listen to the wind a little
Hear the aural serpents
Twisting upon the currents
They carry voices and dreams
From out the woody secret spaces
In scents that rise and fall about us
Till our grey beards stream
Like sails in a gentle storm

Wait

And if you are not a spectre of myth

Then what are you, shadow on the wall
A time traveller who cannot coalesce
Imaginings of my now crumbling brain
A glitch in the time-space construct
Perhaps you are me, in another reality
But for now I shall just call you ghost
And wait for your explanation

Wonder

I used to wonder

If it was worth it
All this writing
That hardly anyone read
So I stopped
But then I realised
It didn't matter
I enjoyed it anyway
And now all I wonder
Is what to write next?
And that is all
The wonder I need

Foam

The yellow bugles still

Daffodils fade to brown
Wilt and lie down
Now comes the bruising grass
Scents of enchantment drift
Slow, upon wishing winds
It is the occasion of chimes
That ring like whispers
They sweep in under trees
White, mauve and blue waves
The woodland foam of May
To crash upon rooted rocks
Below the tall greening trees
For wherever bluebells lie
A wood is close at hand
Tended by its elven kin

Icarus

We are leaves upon life's tree

But who of us thought
They would scatter so soon
Fall from grace like Icarus
To drift down on the world
And yet…despite it all
Fall with such laughter to be had
Along the way

Culture

There was peace to be cultured

But it was a gentle pathogen
Destroyed by the antibiotic of war
And there is much war to be had
It multiplies by slightest contact
Like an aggressive cancer of the soul
And still there is no hopeful cure
Save one last desperate irradiation
That would kill everything
We would have wished to save

Time

Time travel is possible in the future

But they have no coordinates to the past
None were left; why didn't we think?
To leave a temporal candle burning
So they might come with success
Instead of the momentary flickers
That rise about us in the dark
And we call ghosts

Evolve

It opens maybe a little slowly

In a feint in which it is well versed
For in issues of the weather
Its modesty is well rehearsed
A million years evolving
Was assuredly worth the gain
For a native species of Britain
One must learn to love the rain

Pre-Raphaelite

There is softness to May
In the gold and green hazes
The world paints its canvas
In dreamy smears of sunlight
Half colours for this half summer
A Pre-Raphaelite feminism
That captures the patience of spring
Like Echo waiting on Narcissus

Pansy

There is no flower that could manifest delight

Like this wondrous bloom caught in the light
In complexions of yellow, purple and blue
Faces of pansies grin into each morning new
And thought it sits cold within its wintry pot
Its expression beams, for the winter it cares not
And so when we look upon its joyful face
We see a butterfly silhouetted in centre space
It does not care it is small upon the earth
It wishes only that we share of its mirth
And of other mighty blooms the year may bring
None come close to this sweet orchid of spring

Leave

Overthrown and exiled leave them to sleep

They are subdued by orbit, broken by light
The warming spread is their exorcism
And the white spectres of winter fall away
Sliding back into earth as impotent furies