gambolling

hop to it; he says romping bounding and bouncing

springing into the water gambolling from grass

a frolic – your frisky when dancing and prancing

others have left – cavorting – we’re last

when others fail to do what can be done

making nothing of something and neglecting the one

playing and leaping and splashing and dancing

into the water gambolling and prancing

when all others defer we stand alone

cajoling and fondling and showing affect

when others say ‘no’ we say ‘yes’ over again

giving and sharing when others deflect

it’s time; I tell you; it’s up in the air

put your hand in the way – you jump

(it’s life you are catching)

in some sort of trance the others lie sleeping

you spring into the water with a frolic and frisk –

you spring into the water gambolling like this…

finer things

we stroll in the air

and she teases and dares

we dance in the sky

and she swims as she bares

her hand holding mine

as the theme-park ride flies

her eyes watching too

as love wanders through

though the garden in summer

struggles to bloom

they’ll be birds of paradise

blossoming soon

orange – green – yellow – blue

her time off – my joy

leaving work well behind

lemon – milk – butter – lime

paraphernalia – colourful times

my heart beating louder

as yearnings arise

the planet forgotten –

the weatherman shines

stealing my sunglasses

off my shoulder in spring

but a few, but a few

of the finest of things

the willow tree

He walks beside the willow tree

the shade is sure his friend

the road seems long and far away –

will he ever reach the end

The sparrow chirps above his head

the grass, so green, below

the stream awash with dancing sun

he sees its ebb and flow

How long has willow been there

will she ever go away

or is her place by stream in park

his shaded overlay

She spans so many moons and then

he holds life – all his own

and sits upon unwelcomed crown

discarding what he knows

Her broken twig will reproduce –

no urgency or haste

holding the crown he puts it down

the tree has time to wait

She passes time – for who; she asks –

beneath you, the ghost chimes

she looks below and with a glow

grasps him in weeping vines.

the storm

What can I see

when I say I can do

and the bird in the tree

reminds me of you

 

and the little lake ponders

and paddles and pants

and the stars in the sky

over yonder way land

 

speak to the children

who chide in the snow

and the sleet turns to feet

on the ski-slopes on show

 

 

and the fire has embers

that keep lovers warm

cuddled and huddled

under blankets in storms

 

and when thunder breaks

and pets hide out of view

the thunder’s anger

reminds me of you

 

when I said; I don’t love you –

can’t take anymore

and you told me; get out

and you showed me the door

 

 

as I dangled my feet

in the water below

and thought of the time

on the ski-slopes

in the snow

 

it was you on my mind

my ‘one’ grown from ‘two’

the bird in the tree

under sky, clearest blue

I think of thought…

What do I think of thought

Or can I only feel

A touch as tender as the breeze

Or hard as bovine –

‘fore the veal

What do I think of thought

What does she think of me

As hard to the touch as a scab

Or soft and supple

Alike thee

Bereft of kindness –

Or genteel

Like an edelweiss to me

She sees the sun

And makes it real

Glistening – delights the sea

Gravitate to Earth without a force

Magic sensed and written on

Below – the park – a round-a-bout

A tree, with branches

Bark and frond

That listen to the overt mood

The cumbersome-ness of the room

They hear disorderly array

And come to right things very soon

What do I think of thought

What does she think of me

A touch so tender as my mood

So precious as the sea

Night-time

Night-time wouldn’t show itself

Until Sunshine moved away

Like a road-way that disappears in flood

Like a child who will stray

 

Night-time hid away God knows where

Like a sock hides in a shoe

Not wanting to come out and play

Like when I played hide and seek with you

 

The pages turned as Sunshine faded

Sunset became the star

New chapter aglow, best time of day

People came from near and far

 

To hear and see the sweetness, cheer

Sunset brought to all

Listening for the climax

That would entice, enthrall

 

Sunset’s colours made the day

Surely to behold

Night-time felt alone, left out

Dark, upset, anxious, lonely, old.

Darling bud

Oh leaf, oh leaf

Become a bud

Bring me promise, please

 

Oh bud, oh bud

Be my flower

Yearned for, brought with ease

 

Flower, flower

You bloom bright –

Rest your head on me

 

Flower, flower –

Wilting kite –

Oh, mortality!

 

Flowering plant –

Flying kite –

From leaf that brought a bud

 

Oh darling buds

Bring vim and verve

Be my flower, dearly loved

 

Oh water me

Sweet angel

Day, after day goes by

 

Oh water me

The soul of life

Springs eternal after dry

 

A droplet

Brings me truth

And budding flower blooms

 

Truth brings a soul

Forgotten

My angel – in the room

 

I’ll be your spring

In winter

Your perennial, I’ll grow

 

Open my leaf

In sunlight

And create an afterglow

 

Wilt no more, my

Flowered seed

Darling bud that’s dearly loved

 

You are the angel

Of my eye,

The envy of my sun.

The Sepulchre

The sepulchre of the sentiment

That stands beside the Seine

The green seeds of the linden tree

That captivate your name

 

Away, be gone, that sentiment

In place, another, quite unknown

A surreptitious sentiment

One rushes to disown

 

You have no place standing there

Where Charlie reigned supreme

There’s no welcome mat at my door

So stay away from me

 

My river greets those of like-mind

With a smile and a cry

For granted, take not what we have

To you, a lullaby

 

The sepulchre of the sentiment

Reminds, of those who won’t grow old

That surreptitious sentiment

Be gone – protect the fold

 

 

Postscript: In memory of all those innocent civilians who have died in terrorist acts of violence

Taken

Terrified, I looked beyond

My ocean, river,

Lake – my pond

 

Tentative, I thought I heard

The high tide lap

‘gainst beach-heads prize

 

The rock jumps from the page.

A vision’s sight

With sty in eye

 

Urbanised, I look away –

‘Scraper, McMansion –

Mortified

 

I reminisce in disbelief

As faith takes me ‘home’

To my northern wind

 

Where the water trickles

When my finger dips in

Your face, your smile

Your laugh, your lips.

Poem – Belief

Belief is what you see outside

That stands upon the scroll

And pens charity, upon the page

And continues on, enthralled

 

And as the chirping bird is heard

An idea comes to mind

That the morning mist in glory’s gate

Could never deem to find

 

It’s heard amongst the forest

Where the kookaburra’s king

Yet, rarely in the sunburnt land

It’s said most anything

 

Yet as the sunbeam shines

It’s seen to say a prayer

It’s hard to know, from soul to soul

If immortality is there