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

Wrath

Then lay down your white wrath

Upon the tender and industrious
Freeze feet and wings and flowers
Undo the hard won honey reserves
The precious eggs,
Cold in abandoned nests
Hide the buried nuts
From the waking squirrel
Do your worst
But tis a wasted spite
We will wait for you to weaken
And enjoy the sun all the more
As we rise into the summer
And you are long gone
And the honey shall flow again
Like a river of gold
From the snow-white comb

Patience

From roost set deep within frozen bush

Birds emerge and break the deathly hush
And I walk upon the cracking grass
And wait for the hoary frost to pass
And as night abates under wondrous sun
I see the new growth that is now undone
The cold hours are gone but not without cost
For all that had thrived is dead and lost
And if we thought that summer had come
We usurped winter and thought to have won
So a message is now sent to remind us fast
Anything we value may not always last
Nature always shall hold the final sway
And all we may do is our best each day

Shakespeare 400 years on

Four hundred years is too little a time

To understand the man, his life, his rhyme
Nothing now survives of his flowing hand
For all his ability he bequeathed unplanned
For very soon after he met his untimely ends
The first folio was published by two of his friends
It is no random collection by dutiful clerks
For only love could have completed the works
And love is seen in each parchment leaf
For each page was complied in utter grief
400 years slip by but time does not dim
The importance of his words that lie within
And its prominence doth not ever abate
Shakespeare rest quietly in your revered state
And as into the ages you now gently sleep
Supreme master of words you left in our keep
We know little of your life and its ends
But in Heminges and Condell you had friends
For in comedy, tragedy, sonnet and song
They executed perfectly your elegant tongue
And nothing is certain though all scholars guess
In the future your words will persist to impress

Queue

No God has made any of us wretched

Life will always create each of us fair
And only man finds a way to undo it
The spectre of ghostly collaboration talks
But influence should not crow its privilege
For what is this you call unfortunate?
The consequence of our own choices
Partiality was never delivered so visibly
The unveiled threat so easily perceptible
But allies are as allies do
Even when,
We may be put to the back of the queue
Democracy is our meddlesome mistress
It is not yours or Europe's to teach us

Sphere

Across the cosmos
Chaotic patterns form
Numbers rise and fall
Compute to a perfection
Before they dissolve in disarray
And all the while
Its spheres rotate ceaselessly
In vast and timeless spaces
The universe cares nothing
For us as a species alone
Its only concern is time
And enough space and distance
To impose its order upon

Execution

And while the future pauses

I turn to devour the past
For in a glimmer of wisdom
Comes this thought
My days are now made
Not ever to fail in desire
But only in their intent
In dreams that now grey
All my execution of hope
Fades ever towards illusion
And the prideful damage of greed
May now seek a ruin elsewhere
For I shall stay here now
A little more the humbler
To feel alive only in the sun
Among the scents of life
That spring delivers sweetly
Among the now rising days

Taking a ride

Don't know what was going on here with a toad taking a ride on a frog. Maybe a case of mistaken identity - very strange!!

  

 

 

This is the first barn owl I have seen around here and it was hunting in the day. Not very good picture though

 

Ascending

The spring princess must make her gown

From a cloth of green and yellow renown
And all the while, the bitter white witch
The ogre of winter, tries to unpick each stitch
But growth triumphs and all is fashioned new
For every stitch she can undo, spring sews two
Till at last her dress is fair and complete
And into dawn she walks and takes her seat
And winter dismayed calls for one last frost
But spring is now ascending and all is lost
And so dissolves the last of winter's chill
She concedes defeat and obeys spring's will

Shrinkwrapped lamb

 

The first lambs are here in the local fields. They put little plastic jackets on them for the first few days to keep them warm and dry. It is a joy to watch them skipping around but sad to think of their eventual future.

 

 

Electric Picture Palace Mussoorie

And the piano played

In the Electric Picture Palace Mussoorie
Black and white keys rose and fell
And told the oldest story of all
With players made the poorer by it
Save in the culmination of creation
And they are all gone now
Into peace and dust and memory
Footprints upon remaining memories
One foot east and one foot west
A prince, a falcon and a photo
But if my blood runs true
It will be enough
Though you think I imagine it
The mirror tells me a different story
And I have no dishonour
I can walk among the memories
As a princeling
Long bereft of a kingdom

Random

From the shallow seams of memory

We scribble down random thoughts
But the deeper we dig into despair
Then a much richer ore is the reward.
But no script of immortality will result
One day all of it will be hieroglyphics
Our accounts unfolded within a cipher
That time will take and blow into curiosity
But never no more a living memory
For our words are powerful only;
While they can be still read

Chaos

There is a great peace upon a garden

When we leave its beard untrimmed

For a chaos trumps the adoring order

And in such untidy places we dream

Wait silent among the glorious growth

And like a strong vine upon a tree

We may weave and flow around purpose

Merge into the very landscape

And so hidden, we may then watch,

For such a contentment to come to us

 

 

Hill

And perhaps it is coincidence you say

The bees do not awake to join the fray
There are still none present upon my hill
No buzzing wings penetrate daffodil
And where they are I have no clue
But we are the poorer for it, that is true
And clouds build to mountains of grey
Brood and scatter rain upon the day
And without sound of droning bee
Spring is lessened for you and me

Spring Spider

Out it now comes from winters repose

Though where it goes only heaven knows
Perhaps to search for mate, or food, or moth
Traversing the ceiling with undulating sloth
It creeps and strokes like eight-fingered hand
And upon my head I pray it does not land
For now that I know it prowls overhead
Not a wink of sleep shall I have upon my bed

Shatter

Like a dream

I rise and fall
Drifting on a breeze
Then I settle
But I am only
The slightest glass
That shatters on touch
And I am unmade
Upon you

Panama Papers

All is for gain in the offshore bazaar

And to all these journalist a hoorah
They've raised the pressure a few bar
Uncovered a very murky brouhaha
Reaching from Washington to Zanzibar
Another huge tax avoiding cash reservoir
Codenamed 'The Papers of Panama'

Silence

Though the sun caresses us
Strokes us like we are Gods

And daffodils nod and swoon
Yellow silks on windy streams
The proud flags of spring fluttering
Yet still the bees do not come
To visit these fine north orchids
The world remains silent today
And absence makes a heart fonder
Even as the remains of day decay
And the badgers exit earthy setts
To wander under twinkling stars
Caring nothing for the sunshine  
That brought forth not one bee

Rush

Yet so sweet does the moment fly
When we have a want of company
In our needy desire of warmth
It comes readily upon aged bones
Waiting in entombed expectation
In this sepulchre elect we name house
Rush not the farewell to winter
It is only the affectionate pilgrim
That would have us love him
If he were not so icy to the touch
So he stays the itinerant by the door
The beggar we must not admit
An unwashed, raggedy bandit of summer
And we shall forgo all his overtures
Refuse his invitations of affection
We shall sit by the fire till he leaves
Become a watchman upon the shadows
Gazing only back to the far off days
Where there was no cold upon us
In a refreshment of summers excesses
Till wake one morning and see him gone
And taken the grey and lonely winter clouds
That brooded long above our sandstone hives
And the world ever renews it vow to life
Now winter has finished its lonely vigil
And left an arching spring rainbow as a gift

 

The Tempest

There is a tempest in me still
Though it angers now in silence
A secret gyre buried deep within
Even time cannot dissipate it
With its wily trials of age
 
There is a tempest in me still
That rises and falls each night
It aches for a company of spirit
If you would but step outside
To feel rain and wind on the soul

There is a tempest in me still

But I become a summer breeze
When the hummingbirds come
And bees awake and mists flee
Though still it battles me within

There is a tempest in me still

When I wish it
But no wind can blow forever
And when it stills
Be with me as my rage dies