Grâce et faveur

We are placed upon this earth to prosper, We must in order to survive! Our years to reap and sow are few! We are merely in a void, Of which we serve to fill. Coins are not the measure of life. But how you favor others, That’s  the way the stories told, Remembered longer than the richest being. For wealth

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Sunrise and Fall

The  sound grows, Tweeting a cry of joy, Birds herald the new dawn! The Sun starts to glow, Rising high by noon, After the rise the fall. The quite echoed. The light slips slowly away. We witness a glorious back drop. Radiant, pulsing almost alive. The clouds almost tucked, Dipped in bright red. It’s like a party, Tucked in the

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How I missed their embrace.

I would arrive knock and enter, Mother would be knitting or baking, Barely a glance up to me. A groan would slowly fill the space, Its you, what do you want? Almost as if I’d called the day before. The scene always replicated,  My father draped in papers, Reading muttering politics. Eventually the ice and chill break. It was like

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Voile sur par…

On the edge of the Equator. Almost equating to me… Standing, kneeling North and South, East and West, I pray silently. Wishing for the storm within to pass, I look to you for guidance. You stand there full of wisdom and grace. Most of your beauty lies within. Two Islands and two people, Poles apart in thought! Beaches full embracing

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Discipline from the seventies

You said you wanted to talk Not now,when I ‘m good and ready. I  knew my father of old, He wouldn’t go for small talk He would sooner take a walk. The next morning he coughed Awkward, uncomfortable in away. It left me nervous as hell the whole day Around seven I was summoned with a yell. The best room

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The Grim Reaper waits…

The grim reaper lingers. Standing tall, arms folded agitated. In black clothed gown He stands above looking down, He always wears a sombre frown. Breathing hastily through his nose Looking like a serious clown. Impatience shows. He lurks, he waits, Ready to dispatch your fate. The door rattles The teeth chatter like shutters in the wind. His deep shadows haunt

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Far from easy street

 Living on the wrong side of the street I stare with care and mighty depth. If I thought of Defoe and imagined Man Friday, He would surely be the image of you. Your hair dirty full of tangles but maybe that’s OK. Plastic bags adorn each ankle like flags on a pole. I’ve seen you rise like a serpent, Escaping

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Don’t

Don’t lean or tilt.Don’t bend or buckle. Don’t slip or slide Don’t follow trends. Don’t wallow or stay hollow. Don’t live in a bubble. Don’t move with trouble. Don’t let others dictate your huddle. Don’t duck and dive or let others decide, it’s your life to live…

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The ghost of Tobermurray

The first time we set eyes on Tobermurray We viewed you from the  window of a passing train My first and last on the iron road… You loomed large as we approached your derelict shell, Grass growing through the cracks of cobbles. People chatting gazing with amaze,  We sped through this vibrant homely place. It was as though we were

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Hush not a word

Knit one pearl one, She muttered, as the candles Danced and flickered. Click clack needle Seemed to dice with needle. Wool recedes as the bamboos twist and turn, Prodding with haste into ever deepest red. Fathers immersed in print.Head down out of harm,  Sheltering from her ordnance. No one dare speak a word, Hushed in the early spawns of night.

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