Brexit

The fuel of our difference is spent

The great hearth burns slower today
Settles fast upon its slighted ashes
Sifting its grief to worthless regrets
No pictures flicker within the flames
Save a last burning petition of regret
A fading image of a hopeless reprieve
And so it has no warmth to give now
Therefore we let it go out; let it rest
Reflect upon these cold days of division
But when it is remade anew as of old
In its warmth we will come together again

Consort

A kiss of the equine's consort

Upon the tender skin of man
And this sweet summer world
Is how you repay me?
Not in kind words or music
Nor peaceful idyll under climbing skies
But with fangs and stings
With this despised and pitiable fly
Your winged, monstrous vampire
That slips and sneaks upon us
In bloody, unbowed requirement
To ever take without soliciting
And leave this week of violence
Aflame in the wretched flesh

Rise

Washing green ferns
In the morning mist
It rises like new gold
Feel the warmth
Of the new solstice
Become primitive again
Worship the sun
Taste summer's tang
On the early dawn

Sleep

Be at peace special one

Rise with the morning sun

Walk among the flowers
And rest upon the dusk
Though I am not with you
I followed your trail today
Till you lay down and slept
And as you closed your eyes
I saw the peace of the world
Was with you
Then I left you alone to dream
With a piece of my heart
So you won't be without a friend
When next you awake
  

Deception

Just one seed planted in sour furrows

Will grow upon the soil of mistrust
And germinate into such ugly truth
By the misguided or the Machiavellian
Lies fly like bitter arrows about us
And not one is aimed true to the mark
Yet if enough false bolts are fired in deceit
One surely makes its mark upon the facts
To wound its message with confusion
And lies need but one germ of legitimacy
For most to believe its exaggeration
Lies are a complex and subtle deception
For always is a truth hidden within?

Tears

The young calves have been taken away from the mothers and they seem rather sad at the minute. This cow looks as though it is crying.

The relaxing garden area

The strangest fungus shape I have seen so far in a tree hole at the lake

Yellow Iris against the grey sky

Empire

And where does an empire go?

It merely rests, slumbers incognito
Sleepwalking through time
Till it awakes still hungry
And we are again devoured
For no empire has failed
It merely exchanged owners
Or location
And always we one day awake
With a new master
But the mistress remains ever the same

Sleep

Sleep now the dancing was stopped

There is no more of your laughter
Into the warm summer nights
Friendships end, families grieve
Hate has triumphed for a day
Articulated its malevolence in violence
But love is the much stronger voice
So we will speak our words gently
Lest any more of our heart withers
And hate finds a voice here in us

Elvenkind

The cloth of foresight draped about them
Bright as a moonlight that never dims
Never to let courage slip into despair
They are elvenkind for the good or ill
The fate of mortals is not their master
And all their winters pass into spring
They are the life ages of the earth
Made into a soft tissue of the world

See

Like a clear water we are now

Till our transparency shall fail
Time's glacial ice thicken around us
So even our eyes cannot pierce hope
Then nothing of us can be saved
And this is our cold treasure
Long winter's spent in starlight
Laid under a ceiling of ebony
Studded in glittering diamonds
And this bitter yet sweet existence
It is not for mortals to taste
But we feast upon each morsel
In a banquet of joy and regrets
For we are the elvenkind
And have seen every life age of the world

Heron and Geese

Vanity

When all the world you have comes today

Then the butterfly cannot pause for long
It cannot linger on the frailty of dreams
Nothing of beauty may tarry upon whimsy
For the fastest way to travel is by vanity
From each flower, to flower, to flower

Willow

An army of renewal unleashed upon airs

Feather-clad warriors of the spring willow*
We are invaded by falling snow in June
White plumes soaring upon the clement air
For the fastest way to travel is by vanity
And nature gifts them downy wings to fly on

*The willow trees are letting go their seeds with aplomb at the minute. While sat in the garden yesterday the floating seeds looked liked snow floating down in the sunlight. Never seen that before.

Icons

In patience we will again defer

While the old ladies confer
And always we must wait
While ever they deliberate
But I expect no resolution
To all the ongoing confusion
Hours they talk of nothing new
Till they go to nap just after two
Once awake the conversations continue
At the start of the same vocal avenue
But we would have no other ending
Nowhere else this time we'd be spending
For old ladies are dear beyond compare
Icons in sensible shoes with lavender hair

June Garden

Guide

Nature is a companion

A guide and confidante
It is not our enemy
Some wild thing
To tame of its excess
For it is as helpless as we
To fight injustice and longing
Repeatedly savaged by time
Unmade and remodelled
And still nature calls this hope
Though it is unfathomable
Measured against our few years
It holds this world closer than we

Assault

And rainclouds come to assail us

Black bruises upon a cerulean skin
Now is a grey assault of moisture
Hands slapping away a sunny day
And always it ends in teary gloom
Leaden droplets of solidified vapours
That fall like a longing from above
Unto all the gentle sheep and lambs
Grazing swift upon the grassy fields
Lanolin washes into fractured pasture
To soothe and soften the eager earth

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