December 4, 2013

 

 

I can see the seat

where you were sitting,

when you opened up your heart-

You found the setting fitting

 

to reveal the secret you’d held

for most all, of your life.

Then, seemed to you the time,

to unload pride’s sacrifice.

 

In a way, I guess I knew,

or had sort of weighed it up.

Such knowledge can be drunk

from life’s rich loving cup.

 

At times I had felt your pain.

I also knew to what great length,

you’d held back tight, the past,

costing you all of your strength.

 

Often looking into your eyes,

over many years, I saw

that at times you’d just go blank,

and then quietly withdraw.

 

It was easier for you, I guess,

to sidetrack and remain aloof.

For you to acknowledge grief,

would need from you, living proof.

 

And by then, in your mind

you had ceased to exist.

With most emotion you struggled-

like a limp handshake of the wrist,

 

or a hug that was icy cold

and always released too soon,

protecting what feelings were left,

that escaped being buried that June.

 

In a muddled, befuddled way

you had learnt somehow to live-

with nothing much to take,

and even less to give.

 

With no future plans in place

and no sunny horizon ahead.

Decades came and went

with you scarcely, all but dead.

 

Just ticking along each day

with your quietly controlled act,

well worth an academy award-

no great actor could ably enact.

 

In this high security prison

you’d built within your head,

where parole not an option-

enforced railings, your bedstead.

 

You held fast your heartache,

unseen, with no hint of the hell,

that you had chosen to endure,

and that you covered up so well.

 

So now the end, but not the end,

for when a torment shared,

it is but an agony doubled,

and neither one unimpaired.

 

And now my one predicament:

‘Do I take it to my grave?’

Thus burying it forever

Oh, to this tale, I am a slave!

 

I’m left with your dilemma.

True, it now is second hand.

But I think the time has come,

to set it free with a reprimand.

 

 

 

December 1, 2013

 

 

Please don’t knock for Fleur,

she doesn’t want to know.

She left here last week

with the town, deep in snow.

 

Please don’t ring for Fleur,

the bell she won’t hear.

She went off on a whim,

without any sense of fear.

 

Please don’t cry for Fleur,

to herself, she is true.

She’s fulfilling her dreams,

which exclude me or you.

 

Please don’t mourn for Fleur,

she’s very much alive,

and maybe in the future,

back into our lives, she will ride.

 

 

 

 

It was clear what he meant,

and though said with good intent,

it left his mouth not sounding,

anything like a compliment.

 

 

 

 

November 8, 2013

 

 

To feel, to touch,

to know for now,

that this is it, and anyhow?

 

To over-think, to analyse,

would be disastrous-

there’s no compromise.

 

 

October 27, 2013

 

 

Could you bring me a feather duster Nellie,

from the hardware store today.

I’ve got cobwebs hanging from the ceiling

so long, they are starting to sway.

Oh, and if you see any rhubarb,

I can add it to some strawberries

and make a pie.

I’ve got Miriam coming for supper,

so I really feel I should try.

 

 

October 18, 2013

 

 

A lonesome pilchard

that I once knew.

had been abandoned

and was feeling blue.

 

He had slipped through the

net, of a tempestuous trawl,

and back into deep waters

he did fall.

 

But that lonesome pilchard

was unaffected,

and never for a moment

did he feel rejected.

 

He became founder member

of the ‘Wet Fish Pound’,

that rescued brothers

who had gone aground.

 

He grew in statue,

and would go to any length,

to save his comrades

who were lacking strength.

 

From that lonesome pilchard,

a lesson we can learn.

‘Sometimes it pays to be outcast

and to a new future, turn.

 

 

October 15, 2013

 

 

Close tightly your eyes,

shut out the light.

Be free awhile from

endless fight.

 

Lay rose petals

upon your bed.

A pillow of lavender

under your head.

 

A book by the side,

many times read.

Dreams of tomorrow,

on rest, be fed.

 

 

 

October 11, 2013

 

 

Oh Autumn, my beloved season,

I pray it will not end.

 

I love the changing landscape

each burnished leaf, a message sends.

 

And weather so dependable,

and sun that does not burn,

 

and berries ripe and plentiful

waiting to be plucked in turn,

 

then cooked and put in jam pots

and life in harmony with one.

 

The downside to my Autumn,

is alas, too soon it’s gone.

 

It is pushed out by submission

from it’s stronger Winter brother.

 

The treacherous bully of all seasons,

far worse than any other.

 

So now, when leaves are sodden

and every tree is bare,

 

I can only hope that next year,

in Autumn, I’ll be there.

 

 

 

September 16, 2013

 

 

Now may be the time

to get in touch,

after so many

years have elapsed.

 

She might just need you

more than you think –

Her relationship

could have collapsed.

 

Now may be the time

to resolve the past,

by putting the stop

on any further decay.

 

She might still feel

the same way as you,

and be able to cast aside

the problems of yesterday.

 

Now may be the time

to make your move,

and therefore

pent up emotion release.

 

She might just be waiting,

as I suspect she is.

Get in touch, and

give her heart peace.

 

 

September 6, 2013

 

 

When hurtful deeds

cause hearts to bleed,

and friendship suffers

because of greed,

we ask forgiveness

in fact we plead,

so to right the wrong

and from pain be freed.

 

 

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