Friday, 25 May 2018

Sunlight confounds my cat

Sunlight confounds my cat.
Warm in one spot she loves
She lounges and then sleeps.
The sunbeam,
As sunbeams always must,
Moves on.
The lovely source of warmth
Has gone,
The world has turned
And Socky wakes
To stretch a leg
And lick her belly.
Then with resignation she adjusts,
Finds the new pool of yellow light,
And sleeps again.



Wednesday, 18 April 2018

Roses, roses, all the way

Thus, the rose,
Is rose red.
Not pink.
No, never pink.
I'm not a pink.
Oh, why not pink?
Is pink too girly?
Probably!
I don't do pink.
I do red, though.
The reddest red.
Passion,
Even though
All passion's spent.
A dusty red?
Perhaps,
A little like
Dried blood?
Oh, no,
More like an old red rose.
Yes, that's me.

Sunday, 15 April 2018

Spring Flowers

Spring flowers trembling
In a breeze too cold.
Small beads of light
In the brief sunshine
Of a gloomy afternoon.

My heart sighs to see them,
And then it sings;
As they wield
Tiny swords of hope,
Against winter's grey despair.

Sunday, 2 July 2017

I am the child of light


I am the child of light.
Tenacious child!
Always there,
Present, constant like the sea,
Ebbing and flowing,
With the breath.

I am the child of light.
The fluid child!
Forever in flux,
Dissolving and re-assembling,
Foaming and reforming,
Marking each tide.

I am the child of light.
Starburst child!
Born of the galaxy,
Closer than a heart beat,
Loud as a thunder clap,
And softer than a rose.

Wednesday, 28 June 2017

Spirit Music


I waited
And I'm waiting again.
And dreaming
As I did then
Long ago.

Far away I had
The same dream.
Now, it's a new day.
And, again you show me
A wisp of  reality.

But you play with my dreams
As you play with your music.
Making for me a lovely melody
That's lost on the wind
And forgotten

Thursday, 22 June 2017

The Sentient Quest

"Sentience" - the capacity to feel, perceive, or experience subjectively

The Thinker, Rodin

Figures across an expanse of snow,
Others, far down and hovering in the deep,
More, scanning screens for stars,
All hearing ancient echoes.
And on a quest
Started with sentience.

Somewhere out there,
Above, beneath or just further.
Maybe it's deep inside.
We seek forever.

Questing for truth or carrying it?
Outside, inside or hovering deep.
Awaiting the scanning,
Is there that cosmic echo?
So we shall quest
Perhaps, long passed sentience.


Tuesday, 20 June 2017

Solstice Chatter

"What times the Solstice?"
"It's tomorrow;" said triumphantly.
"No, I mean the exact time."
Now, I get that look.
"Why?"
And, of course I can't say why it matters.
But it does.
Perhaps the wheel turns faster?
No, there'd be trouble if it did.
There might be a shimmer in the air,
or maybe, a fluttering of leaves?
Anyway, the earth does know somehow.
I'm sure of it and I'm determined.
"What time is the Solstice, exactly?"