Beat

A flower bloomed to fade

Petals spent on slowing skin
Drums in the darkness
Progressive, flowing, throb
Taut, supple, heartbeats
From rhythm to silence
To weaken in the heat of night
And summer begins
After temperate wait
To begin on the beat of growth

April Colour

Small

The world is small at 3 o' clock

When I wake upon matressed dock
Ache and discomfort may stir a man
When age reveals its painful plan
But learn to enjoy the sojourn at night
The stumble and fall to reach the light
Disturb the dog and make the tea
Wonder if this happens only to me
Bring needed rest to my wearied soul
To sleep through night is my dear goal

Records

 

A vinyl revival is reported today
For some of us it never went away
We cut adulthood upon this black stuff
It was just about music; and it was enough
Formats changed and the world moved on
The noise of scratch and pop, long, long gone
Modern music is not really for me
The digital WAV and the dreaded mp3
I need something physical to actually touch
Mechanical and analogue we can love so much
And soon the young may come to understand
Why pay to see a masterpiece only on demand
When you can hold the original in your hand
Music's commerce was always pretty shameless
And format wars proved very good for business

Dance

The lily pad grows upon watery field

Sits atop the glimmer and highlight
And the fly dances over these vapours
Skims pearlescent water like a kamikaze
He does not lament any lack of frogs
For he is safe to try acrobatics unhindered

Secrets

What secrets some keep

In vaults buried deep
Perhaps jewels of history
With new owners of mystery
And the necessity of needs
Sprouts from bitter seeds
What we covet and desire
Lights an insatiable fire
And of a loss you may weep
For things never yours to keep
But nothing can ever be secure
While the world has its poor
Always the truth must be told
That life is still worth less than gold

Pondlife

A fluid skin unpierced by wind
Immobile sheen reflecting blue sky
The pond is hushed now
Silent as a watery grave
Nothing stirs, nor croaks
And where are you?
Amphibious changelings
Flippered mermaids of muddy margin
Winter was kind; spring benign
What malignant threat ensued?
The pond is silent now
Its spring ambassadors absent
And my head argues calm
But the heart is ill at ease
Lest the world is running down
And each new spring is made smaller

Ghost

I saw a ghost today
In the dimness
I thought it was you
But in another time
And it read my thoughts
To know where to stand
So when I look around
It always catches my eye
To remind me
Honour my memories
Before I go to sleep
Lest it part from shadow
And terrorise the gloom

Easter Pictures

Robbie being braver than normal

 

 

Wide shot of bridge and dapplement

 

I lay here in the garden looking at the sky the other day

 

 

The first peacock on the heather

 

Moss cushions greening for spring

Robe

 

And slow comes the sunny elven bride

The world is not dressed for spring
Morning robed bare in misty layers
Wefts of night linking slender saplings
But in robes of gold and royal blue
Enfolded about in green elven cloak
She enters radiant as the first morning
To sing to us of her wondrous growth
Even if spring, she is awakening late

Easter

Easter comes early but not too soon

Mighty music to fade and wither
To sing to us of wondrous growth
Yet the world is awakening late
Under the cool April skies
Bees still sleep on in peace
Food reserves now almost gone
Frogs remain deep in the mud
Carousing and spawning on hold
Their pearls do not like the cold
 No clouds lie upon smoothest sky
The flat blue sweeps away darkness
Onto the shelf of April day
And the morning mist covers all
Like a curtain before a show
Today reveals the magic of creation

Rage

 

Exit the hive cloud
Decamp to unwilling earth
Buoyed by swirling wind
Swarming droplets
With icy barbed, sting
Rage upon glass as rain
Then dissipate into night
To burrow into eager earth

Late March 2015

Grace

 

And the snow falls

On late March morning
Caresses new emergence  
Sendaline on soft green
White on yellow trumpets
Holds back the amphibians
And stifles humming bees
Wildness tis tender grace
It holds hands with calm
And still the snow falls
But the sun now holds sway
And no amount of inclemency
Can defeat new spring day

Enough

Strike for the surface

But reach it not
Like a curved fish
Silver crescent
Set in a sea of ice
We cannot move
Not in this world
Nor maybe the next
But we may dream
Of warmer waters
And see a bluest sky
Through the translucence
And is it nearly enough?
Perhaps...it is!

Signs

Can we all perceive signs?

The leaf that falls upon open hand
A following robin hopping on walls
Or do they wash away lost
In tides of incredible disbelief
I will follow fates' footprints
Walk maybe a known destiny
Along thin scattered breadcrumbs
Yet I shall never be alone
For behind shall come birds
And make the trail invisible
And you must find me again
If you truly believe in fate

Mar 2015 Eclipse Lancashire

Here's the mornings eclipse - better pictures than I expected to get.

Eclipse and Shadow

 

We have an eclipse at 9.30am today but unlikely we will see it as we have the usual cloudy outlook

 

A shadow cast long

Any penumbra of awe

Is not to be so dark

As nights departing

And no umbra

Nor antumbra

May lighten a humour

That will sigh and wait

For the light to return

And the rain to cease

 

 

 

Small

I am made so small
Smaller than memory
So small, wind passes;
Through my soul
Like airy blade
 
I am made so small
You no longer see me
So small, I can hide
At the edge of nothing
Like forgotten words
 
I am made so small
To sting only irony
Tiny mite; vicious wasp
Chasing lesser prey
Like they are nectar

I am made so small

A drop of spring rain
Falling to apotheosis
For now I am made so small
I perceive everything

Maternal Remembrance

I saw a familiar ghost today

I always recognize you
You know where to stand
To catch my eye, remind me
Honour maternal memories
Till daylight comes and I miss you
Before I sleep and shadow parts us
Always
And how bitter a life
Would I have lived?
To have never again thought of you
You need not remind me again
For I never stopped thinking of you
But it comforts me to know
You never really left
And you wait so patiently
For us to drift back home
One by one
And all be reunited again

Nonsense

It is an ancient path

Winding over peaty moor
Under a web of stars
And slowly the points
Of pearlescence join
Into a final coherence
Yet there is nonsense still
Sunshine on rainy days
Doubt upon certainty
Unicorns and Elves
And if nothing makes sense
Count your blessings
For you are innocent

March 2015 7am

 

Along failing edge of night
Sunrise runs in pastel hues
Butter smears on golden toast
And it smells like apocalypse
In deadly earnest bought this fire
That reaches into the cold
As comes the war of the spring
And a winter fades and fails

For Mother's Day 15th Mar

 

Along scattered breadcrumbs
Lovingly laid and unselfishly given
I follow your footprints of fate
And in every direction I travel
All roads lead back to you
And each step I take away from you
Leads me ever closer to your arms

Choice

 

What kind of world do we want?
Smoke upon water; grey and cold
One that reflects only starlight
So that night follows day like a ghost
Where strong sleep upon the weak
And not just sleep but utterly conquer
This world of men and machines
It labours ceaselessly in its increase
Always to entrap the innocent
But this is not my world yet
The shadow holds no sway
But ever it lengthens each dawn
Stretches out its hand nearer
And it will take hold of us all
If we do not make a stand
We have but eight weeks
To make a last alliance
From those who would be better

Glow

 

Daylight paints pastel hues

Along the edge of deepening dusk
Last glowing hope of lost day
Now to fade into a long night
And if we cannot save a dream
In the unfolding sea of stars
Then there never was any hope
But a cowardly false witness
In the times amid waking and sleep
And we merit tomorrow's awakening
Unloved and friendless
Under a canopied frosty bower
Like the first elves awaking to starlight
And who will teach us now; who?
Not one; even though we desire it
But not enough to fight, to struggle
Not enough to sleep abroad
Far from a comfortable home
We are a fading people
With no white ship of Elvendom
To carry us across the glassy sea

News

No phoenix arises from embers

The ashes of decency smoulder
But cannot ignite to change
Soaked by a drizzle of hyperbole
Leaching from irrelevant clouds
News is now constantly reinvented
For feeding frenzies of irrelevance
Blind to what we are not shown
We are only what we know
Nothing more, nothing less
And we are so fickle to truth
Zombies of sensationalism
Locusts devouring false opinion
It rends the fabric of nations
And every inch of typeface
Reveals the slow slip of decency
Into maelstroms of indecent choices
How did we come to this?
That few others may see truth
Or else we came upon wisdom late

Freshwater Pearls

The only freshwater pearls worth having in your pond. It is very early for frogs and toads so I am guessing it is a newt egg. It came up with the duckweed the other day. I put it back and left the duckweed alone.

These two pigeons were having a royal scrap the other day. One is giving the other that "get out of my tree" look.

Spring Lamb

The first spring lamb I have seen this year. It is quite big so must have been born at the end of January

Onlookers

Oscars 2015

Echoes of transparency

Whims of fate
That strike for the surface
But reach it not
Perhaps instance of noble designs
Or the ego of leaden need
Say you which 
But never gainsay me
Not I the gentle soul
That craves the soft applause
For the tears of worth
Though dried now for my art
Into a coinage of delusion
And this golden homunculus grins
But he does not smile for me
Not yet,
Though I love him much
But he doth love another
Fickle sprite, mercenary friend
But all is well, it is just pretend

Stars

Go to the stars

Stephen Hawkins advises
Go where and when
And who would have us
Knowing what we do
What we have done
And what we will do again
It's best we stay here
And leave the universe
In peace
From such flawed creations

Muse

 

The dusk comes and sleep invades all sensibility

But nothing may breach the hollow within a heart
That wishes not to be healed, nor lightened of want
Dream on then of fireworks and fantastic libretto
The artist is but a mirror for the wider world as muse
Reversed, laid upon the elastic tissues of intolerance
And where but in an artist's unique dreams of wonder
Are such new painted eclipsal dawns given such life

Garden

Of every garden we may make a song
And in its lyrics there is no word wrong
Within its borders a soul finds peace
In nature's heart do our troubles cease
True we tame through sweat and toil
But nothing is sweeter than well tilled soil
So make your wish and thank the Gods
We are given a chance to break the sods
For of all the places I could ever be
I'll always take a garden seat next to thee

Awakening

The bejewelled, decorous butterflies sleep
No fluttering phoenix will arise awhile yet
To wander along the long, summer days
There is no beauty to drive away cold
Breach a hollow in this winter's heart
But yet the first spider is now stirring
A small associate of its shapeless kind
Hairy harbinger of dread from evolution
Imprinting a silhouette of terror upon us
To sit in dark spaces, keep watch on night
Empty day of its flies and you are most welcome
Remind me of fates touch, time is the spider we fear
Time waits in lieu of payment as we flutter in its web
And yet I shall give time no pleasure; it may wait
As I wait for the dancing colours to birth like rainbows
Now in the cold of winter, hoping the summer is kind

Happy Haircut

I think he looks better - hell I'm spending more on the dogs grooming than my own

Best in Show

                                              Before                                             After

Love

There is a love

A great and epic love
That stirs armies
Never births in war
Yet always ends in defeat
But there is another
That walks quiet ways
Inhabiting winter mists
On secret paths
Searching for combatants in wonder
To take hold our hand
Break the cosmic seal
And bring heaven to earth

Bafta's

 These errant horsemen of celluloid

And their maids of modest virtue
Make a rehearsal for the Pacific
For when adored and rewarded
Immortals need no guidance
They have The Theory Of Everything
In this Imitation Game called Bafta's
Indiscreet, fawning at whims of fate
In three scenes of irrelevant affluence
The fall of humanity played out tirelessly
What the camera may only do is reinvent
But year is young and champagne flows
And they will create more art and fame
While you may assuredly applaud again

Clarity

 

Crystalline icy star
Laid gently down
Out of grey-white sky
Each snowflake unique
An icy heartbeat of being
And before it melts
Transforms to clarity
To meld into earth
Is beautiful to behold

Entwistle Reservoir January 2015 Pictures

Around Entwistle Reservoir this January

Layers

Conformity is learned behaviour

Layers separate out like shock
People begin to think in waves
They move in a kinetic dread
The slow shoals of compliance
Hunting for disturbing difference
They crash on rocks of individuality
Upon the solitary marbled people
Until worn out by constant attack
They must dissolve into sea spent
And ever loss of soul is a feast missed
So the sharks of adversity hunt others
And none found breach its dragged net

Senses

 

Can you smell the air?
There is a change coming
It creeps into each new day
Small imperceptible signs
Smaller than ant footprints
And three extra minutes grace
Feels like a whole day
When the sun shines again

Assuage

Nothing now may shed a tear

Now the failure of all is near
When life is taken to be a test
Nothing now will grant me rest
Not wind, tide or natures' breath
For what is now left to assuage
Time travel is only a result of age
And we must always carry on
Or be a relic of times long gone

Undressed

But nothing is linear save time and tide

Sweeping wave and sagging seconds lost
Mark thought not of this earth, but of truth
Though saved perhaps by the raggedy rage
To so console and derive no love thus yet
It cannot be measured, cannot be guessed
What but the truth is best seen undressed?

See

I cannot see you now

But your tang still remains
On every surface you touched
In our bed; on my hands
Your scented selflessness
Nothing will ever be so sweet
As this honeysuckle and fish
Perfume of absent touch
And I cannot see you anymore
But still you have not left