Colours of day

Tell me now, the colours of your day;
Blue Black
Blue Black
Blue Black
Grey.

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In Liquid Days

Had I wit to fashion liquid days,
In timeless pursuit of being known,
Abiding wholly in peaceful days
Of ochred hue and cry unknown,
I would stretch the limits of such time,
To play, perchance to know new dreaming
Building castles with the sands of time,
In time with you in peaceful dreaming.

 

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Soon

Echoes of sadness
Smother tunes of knowing hope
But tomorrow comes.

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Love All:

If music be the food of love, play on,
for savage breast be calm in gentle note.
In harmony of thought full music fills
the senses with sweet singing cleft in time.
It swells the melody to passion own,
and love, sweet love does beat the pulsing tone.

 

But poetry does feed the troubled soul,
so love arouses symmetry full seen
in line, in verse, inspired by the muse,
so spirit now is dancing with the heart.
And love proclaimed is love declaimed in fire
and metered with the words of sweet desire.

 

But music with the poem sleeps in time,
harmony in rhythm with full sensing,
weaving waft and weft with words worth noting
tuneful grown in rhapsody of rhyming.
So bard and minstrel share their common goal
of birthing now the harmony of soul.

 

Oct 2018

Canal Walk

The peace of the quiet things
filled the air with placid calm that settled
on the day with the comfort of a mother
breathing quiet consolation in her song.

And royal swans with haughty purpose
glide with cygnets grey and water blue,
framed by iridescent shades of light,
navigate the waters that they own.

And myriad blues and greens and yellow hues
burst from leaves that serenade the scene
in easy tones of tender dreaming
as time stood still in slow delight.

Such vibrant colours of the spring,
dripping wet with water coloured
by soft infused abundant shades of mellow
ripple gently listening to the breeze of peace,
as lovers walk and talk and listen to the space
that soaks them in the coloured breath of love.

 

Tiverton
May 2019

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DOG

Fat cat expectations
rise and fall
on melancholy hill.
No woe be gone
no hound dog call
but softly murmured words
cast down in soul full tones
of black dog blues.

CLASS ACT

Social climbing

                      rarely pays

                                        the price

                                                    of burning

                                                                    down the

               bridge that

                                 spans the

                                                 Rubicon.

 

Said Icarus.

                 While

                            six foot

                                        above contradiction

  

                               Daedalus smirked.

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On seeing a Kingfisher by the Teign

Two meetings

 

One framed by rippled river still.
One still in doorway then entrancing.

 

One meeting startled by electric blue that tingles senses gasps in awe
and time itself stands still in wonder at swift beauty caught still in motion
framed in time and being by the stillness of creations glee.

One meeting captured silently by glance not stare with careless
unforeseen perception of the edges of awareness with equal awe and wonder
framed too in time and motion by the stillness of creations glee.

As time stood still in meeting thus,
picture this and that and then
but ask not why or how or if
both then
both now
both still.

Two unexpected meetings both timely now in time and out of time with timely
understanding of the thrill and tingled nape that lets the gasp of breath
with fluttered wings skip beats of heartfelt risky recognition
stand in awe and gaze at frozen moments of sweet tender almost touch.

Two meetings framed in serendipity of stillness
still rippling with the waves of fate that pulse with
breath held bated by sheer beauty more than knowing
what should be or may be or may not.

 

          One glimpse of flashing splash of blue electric gasps in flight.

          One glimpse of gentle electrifying seeing of heart inclined to other.

 

Two meetings.


Time stands still in wonder that the human heart and soul can ache
in awe and wonder so at flash and flush of sweet surprise.


Seen, but almost not seen.
Known, but almost not known.
Found and lost in equal measure
the congruence of fate and feeling
in patterns of uncalled for shaping
all that was and is and maybe
all that loves and lives in seeing.

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Cornish Beach

My love reflects the light of evening sun
as close of day in time is softly seen.
The sands of timeless wasting time as one
still ambling hand in hand in gentle scene.
Now light upon the water tickling toes,
as small dog dances now to canine beat.
And stillness, caught in breathless knowing grows
in awe and wonder at such tender sweet.

         Yet palette seeps the scene with tender glow
         with hint of twilight soft horizon bless
         in blessing captured moment now to show
         just being and in living, love express.

So sand and water light infused with love
bring peace in stilled with passion from above.