Album

 

Here you both are, at the beginning,

Him, so massive, you so small,

I don't know why I thought you were alike,

but you're at home upon his lap,

His arm so strong and gently

curved around your sturdy little body,

both relaxed.

By the end of the album, 

You're bigger, but he's got to stoop

to pat the ball you throw,

Careful to make sure it reaches,

Best mates, you in your too big boots,

He in his soft souled trainers,

Teaching each other

how to be. 

White Flag

 

Tired of all the silly bunting

and garish flapping flags a-waving

unfriendily in these wicked winds

where unnecessary wars are 

waged for all their jingoistic

provocating 

I set my stall beneath a string

of fluttering leaves,

A table spread with mother's

bright white table cloth,

reserved for special days

like this

I'll kiss the air to all 

who pass and smile to those

who read my words

and do not overlay my thoughts

with unconscionable hate 

I'll wait

Until the rain begins

then quietly go and pack my things

and bid retreat until 

the flags that fly are clear 

and over-writ with prayers

of peace. 

From My Shell

 

I hear the wind

The crashing waves

Pushing pushing gathering

Roaring

When I was

Underneath the deepest

Rippling blues and light

Filtering greens and clear

Clear sunshine streaming 

Bright

Resting resting

Night soft calming

On the calm deep

Sleep came

Claiming

Calming

Morning

Wetness

Whiteness

Shifting 

Rising

From the deep

to the shore

Washing up

Rolling

Air washed

Sand rubbed

Rolling

Pushed

Pushed further

Up among the sands

And seaweeds

Slithering

Sand rocks

Sea glass

Hands stoops

Here am I

In darkness

Stolen

Taken

Jiggling

Waiting

Wanting

Vaunted

At Home

 

Ohhh, you haven't touched your Video or the cassette mama !

the visitor kneels beside the elderly lady.

She's looking at the trees' tops beginning to turn faintly yellow, orange, brown, in the distance. 

Hmmmm ? She wakes from her reverie as the tape whirs into action. The colours, the sounds begin to stir her mind, faces flicker before her, but it's the sound of their voices that get through

that, and the warmth of the hand on hers, so gentle, so kind. Deep, visceral memories of love and laughter bring a smile to her mouth, a fleeting recognition to her eyes.

We are memory.

We are only memory.

All the leaves fallen

Red, orange, brown

Each step their sound

My feet touching

 Summer passed lightly

Now we feel the change

Gathering all around us

We walk towards some

Bright light filtered

Makes a cathedral

A shower 

A warm bower. 

Resting awhile, 

We wait.