poetry
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Things let go of us.
Summer sun Is clinging on. As I walked today, Saturday In October. Summer heat. Summer light. Summer weather. Autumn date code. Summer, hanging on In heat Clues of autumn happening slow Colder mornings Darker nights Sky with deeper hues of… Continue reading
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The Empty Field
I Stood.Feet on the floor. Perilous. Before me. The Empty Field. Brown. Dirty. Barren. The wheat had goneIts whispy movementA memory echo of a beautiful summer. I pined its lossFor weeks. Complaining thereWas nothing to seeAt sunset. Except clouds. Empty. Empty field. I stoodYet. Now. This moment. This evening. Tears… Continue reading
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Paths are made for feeling.
(My words normal. Italics John O Donohue. )Every time you leave homeAnother road takes youInto a world you were never in. Pilgrimage, an oft used word. Traveller on a sacred path. Internal External. Concurrent. New Stranger on other paths awaitNew… Continue reading
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Beauty is.
Dear Flower, I might describe you with a label I once was taught, or proudly exclaim you with accuracy, from my limited knowledge of florals. I might give you fame, by taking your photo. Showing you off to a world… Continue reading
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What Butterfly Said.
I wonder. I wonder whether butterflies have been told? I wonder whether they know?If the rumour has got through to them after all these years. That they have become metaphoric. To the extreme. Pastiche. Simile. Picture. Meme. Resonance. Symbol. Awakening.… Continue reading
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Arousal of Life
It wasn’t just the dolphins.However wonder lusting we were about them. It wasn’t just the puffins. However much they performed their adorable cuteness. It was the space between. From Dolphins just of the harbourTo the island. There was time. Time… Continue reading
