Sunday, 11 September 2011


Evergreen hardy vigour
flourishing in youth
feeding on world offerings
almost feels obtuse,
firing out letters
words flowing forth.
Days becoming years
stories stay the same
stagnating in veins
spreading to his pen
grinding to the stop light,
what is missing?
He hangs up hack hat
tossing screwed up
verbs into the trash can
world worn & weary closing eyes,
out of the waste paper a poet is born.
Haggling with Haiku
tangoing with Tanka
Swimming towards Sonnets
the writer is renewed,
following an angel wings
frolicking in wild flowers,
his romping romantic streak
wreaks havoc
swooning swans almost sink.
His story surpassing expectation
reviving fantasies of fiction
releasing ardent inspiration,
he sings in the orchestra of dawn
resting in the grassy knowledge of home.

(For Joe, hope you like it Happy Birthday)

Thursday, 1 September 2011

Monday, 15 August 2011

Dragons Dawn #1

All is quiet yet outside
a rumbling is forming
the city beast awakes yawning
belching burnt fumes into the sky.
He scratches with vibrations
of a thousand engines
his eyes open as the sky lightens,
sluggishly he moves life blood
trapped behind the red light cholesterol.
His glass pane scales shimmer
reflecting pink mackerel sky,
his tail ebbs its watery way north.
He stretches far trailing suburban limbs,
leafy, sleepy to start, yet his claws are
sharp angles of inner urban deprivation.
His bite a frightening realization
combining wealth with pain
he slowly unfurls his living carpet
of wings waiting for flight again.

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Sweet release

Feelings caught in stifled space
held within the muggy monotony
moving in treacle motion
rotation, always forwards.

Gazing heavenwards, scanning
brittle patience snapping
seeking the change
bringing the reprieve.

Sailing in, riding high
suppressed heat rising
meeting sky iced thoughts
bubbling formation begins.

First a subtle stirring breeze
parched yearning increasing
slowly the cool spirals
kiss sun burnt stems.

Heat pulsating from core
each grain, molecule, heartbeat
begging to consume, feel
cool fingers trailing through.

With the first touch it starts
electric sparks as droplets fall
each hit making dust dance
entranced the song is formed.

Lost in abandonment
sweet release calls
washing away tensions
cleansed, almost complete.

Waiting is finally over
tumultuous vibrations tear
at seams striking home
burnish stroke hits stone.

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

An interview with Death (Part 2)

In between the seconds, the spaces,
the void, found within tick to far off tock,
we sat, we talked...
"Why is it that you keep coming back?"
I pause to examine the shuffle of silent thoughts:
"I hoped you could answer that"
Looking away I see the circular table
on it stands the hour glass, suspended grains
held motionless, their timeless fall arrested.
"I am your fear, your fascination, your fate, all
you have to do is wait, is that right?"
The dust motes echoed the yawning gap
as my mind fought to free the words:
"Sometimes the truth can follow the
the wrong path" I breathed,
with that the first tock struck.


In searching she steps into the stream
chasing dreams as they swim swiftly by
ever hopeful her own will appear in the ripples. 

Turning over the pebbles she continues
scanning the bed for that elusive colour
that memory of long lost happiness, hidden.

Silver shards of salvation dart deftly passed
into shady darkness, my net is made for
butterflies not souls she wept silently.

Further in the flow is faster, with
careful steps cautious of falling
she follows the zephyr of fate
"please wait" she cries out.

Wading in the watery depths watching
stars blossoms waft downwards
she is washed into the current
wishing she carried you with her.

At last she is lying on the river bed
she is sleeping now, she is not dead
her net is full of pearls just waiting
to enter her head when she is awakened.

Friday, 29 July 2011

An Interview with Death (Part 1)

The knock echoed deeply around the cavernous room within.
Waiting with breath held, the answer came "come in"
He was a sight like none I had previously seen
billowing black surrounding a figure of spectral lean.
A glint of silver caught my eye distracting me
but the tap of bone cold finger was
more than enough to divert my mind.
"Please be seated" and so we sat waiting, wondering why.
The clock ticked loudly marking the passing moments.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime had passed,
he spoke: "are you ready to go yet?"
I faltered, looking down... Then said "I don't know,
I think there is a few people I don't want to forget"

Sunday, 24 July 2011

The one that got away

Time moves slowly as I roll back
sinking gently, silently beneath the surface.
My breathing becomes me it is
my metronome, my calming force.

The cooling touch, the softest tug,
the absolute ambiance of water.
Balancing carefully as I glide deeper
below me the sunlight dances dappled
a myriad of colours show shining brightly.

The shoal tide turns suddenly
glinting like a thousand tiny mirrors
reflecting an almost angelic beauty.
I close my eyes and cast back
to capture your face, a glimpse
but it was your soul I saw.

(prompt: dappled sunlight glinting on shiny objects like a friends soul)

Saturday, 23 July 2011

Diving in a dream

Hear the groan of the streets
tired and stressed, frantic
with the Friday night traffic.

Engines grumble onwards
fumes gather in smog like form
as we edge slowly closer.

City smells fade away as
our gleaming car glides seawards
on this steaming tarmac highway.

Chasing the sunset down
a stream of shining eyes alight
beams racing forwards.

Passing though worlds apart
the neatly trimmed lawns
of this southern suburbia.

The beach house greets us
it sand blasted sides softened
by twilight's gentle touch.

The veneer of city life is washed off
from wandering on the veranda
listening to cicadas sing.

Tomorrow we will begin
our exploring of this alien world,
silently sinking under the waves.

Tonight walking barefoot
on the cooling sands, drinking in
the breeze, we are holding hands.

Searching for seashells in the surf
we found it, perfectly smooth, rounded,
a polished piece of sea glass.

The years move like tides
not waiting for the past
I remember it all, just from a touch.


As the mist clears from the hidden valley's depths
a picture painted before us in nature's vast palette.
Standing on the silver shore looking inwards
past the hedge of pink hibiscus breaking
the wind's relentless onshore march,
bringing sweet relief for those living within.
Beneath the copious canopy of high rise trees
dancing to the tinkling tune of falling mountain stream
the Demoiselles display a magic all of their own.

* To see a picture of these beautiful type of damselflies see:  Demoiselle picture

Tuesday, 12 July 2011

The Mouse

I cannot recall why
it caught my eye,
the small blob of brown
fur on the ground.
I turned to examine
closer what I had found.
The tiny mouse lay still,
his head hidden, killed?
As if stepped on, left to die
by someone walking by.
For a second the urge of old
to nurture took hold of me,
I squashed it with adult logic
picking up dead mice is not hygienic!
But my child like wonder could not fail
as I admired his delicate foot & tail.
A moment of my time spent, I'll now keep
in honouring this fallen son of Reepicheep.

Saturday, 9 July 2011


Alas the beast still lives,
though free to roam further
it does return, in vengeance
spitting scarlet anger
it has not been tamed.
When provoked he reigns supreme,
oozing adrenaline into my veins
his wrath a fearsome force
searing body and mind, tearing holes
in the fabric of my fable existence.
Corrosion coursing across the
synaptic nerves of my sanity,
the dank blood coloured mist lingers on.
His life spark a unbending need for justice,
for the wrongs to be avenged,
for the truth to rise above
the sea of lies he abhors.
In his crazed myopic mission
he is oblivious to the pain,
he struggles on fighting the waves
that engulf the vessel I have become.

Friday, 8 July 2011


Floating quietly amid the dust motes of reality they wait,
forever held in the moment they were formed,
then shattered when we woke.

Walking on clouds; running down corridors;
trying to find that which was lost, a kiss, a touch,
all swimming together now, just waiting for sleep's arrival.

Like fireflies they gather, singing sweet melodies,
yet heard only from within, fragments; slivers;
the shimmering shards of a dream.

Friday, 17 June 2011

My Friend (Poetry) - Revised

It was a fascination, an unexplained obsession
a need that had to be pursued. I know not why
I gave up asking, but know that this happened for a reason.

Was this reason for, or because of you?
Maybe it's my destiny, a need to become more
than I ever hoped for, to feel a personal success.

Yet as the story unfolds I find gems
worth more than bullion gold,
chance encounters with poetic souls.

The gifted ones, who with a stroke of the pen
reduce me to tears, or transport me to another domain
then feed me with food for my heart and mind.

They humble me with a kindness of the soul
strength in the face of adversity
the like of which I have never known,
touched by passion to instill change upon the world.

So I thank you most kindly my friend
for such a perfect introduction
and for the candle flame, lit for me
leading me out of the crowded darkness.

Sunday, 12 June 2011

The Ship

Beneath purple painted clouds
grazing honey back lit sky
a single ship on the horizon
atop gently shifting waters
stained with creeping iridescence,
proud beacon silhouetted in the moment.

Witnessing beauty's golden kiss stolen
from her dying daylight breath.
behind the curtains, twilight
waiting with all smothering embrace
welcoming her dark lover
bejeweled night velvet widow.

Saturday, 4 June 2011

Silent Scream

Sirens screeching ever closer
strike a chill into the cool calm night,
shattering peaceful sleeping
as speeding vehicles stream past.

Neighbours glued to television sets
tut impatiently turning volume up
drawing curtains tight as if
to block out the ill of this night.

They are talking but she cannot hear
blood trickles slowly down
a stream of drowned emotions
as they shake their heads.

When they pull the blanket over
few words are said, not a case
of too late more compounded mistake
nobody heard her silent scream.

Finally free from her hollow
shell world the smiling mask
slipped off once more, after
her skull struck the stone floor.

Gently they carry her out
she is not there, she had already
crossed beyond the silver stream
running free as she had always dreamed.

This was not how she had planned
to leave but now in this place
where he could not follow, maybe
it had been her final chance for peace.

Thursday, 2 June 2011


Under the tangled limbs
pools of light form
falling between fingertips,
liquid gold dripping
onto rustic green skin.

A Mediterranean moment
pause of breath held
before the rustling returns.
Sultry summer sky
waiting, watching flies.
Time idles lazily by.

Inside the cool glass
bubbles rising quickly
tickling lips with sweetened
cider scented kiss.
Alfresco in the garden.

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Todays inclusions...

'Storm force' got included in The # Poem Daily today.

The # Poem Daily

Also an inclusion of my reading of  "Letters Pronouncing Kisses" - a poem written by  QuirinaRoode-Gutzmer. I am particularly happy as this is not only a fantastic poem, but also my first recording to make an e-magazine!

The Voices Shared Daily

My reading can be heard on my Tumblr page here:  The_Linnet sings

With grateful thanks as always!

Monday, 23 May 2011

Storm force gets 3 mentions today.. :)

With grateful thanks

The Virtual Writer

and in

The writers Daily

and in

The VoicesShared Daily

Storm force

Stolen from my dream world
Who is that banging on the door?
I wonder why, my sleep fog clears
Wood knocking on wood, in savage repetition
No visitor would be so rude.
Peeking round the curtain, eyes open wide
Sash window frame being lashed back and forth
more like a piece of paper.

Childlike as a child does I ran for the door
My parents were worried, rightly so it seemed
high winds were not predicted that night.
Settled under kitchen table, no more sleep
Watchful, wakeful as the wind did its worst!
Gable wall joined the dance swinging back and forth
Roof slates raining down
lethal blades cutting deep into the ground.

Angelic force or twist of fate
The morning found us and the wall
standing still, shocked yet unhurt.
As we cautiously ventured out
The world was torn and twisted
Everything was broken, thrown all about.
An alien landscape greeted our eyes
Sunshine lighting our way
as tiny shards of ice rained down.
The storm had passed, but the memory
Burnt forever in my heart.

(Entered for oneshotwednesday on 24/05/11 -

Saturday, 21 May 2011

Friday, 20 May 2011

Victorian attraction gets a mention

With grateful thanks

The #Pressed Leaf Daily

Victorian attraction

Sky seating on man made stilts
Held between the wide expanses
of sea sky and land
Air in constant movement
Tearing away the silence
Sun gilded shimmer the lines
Left from waves constant decline.

This place an alien space
From a forgotten time past
memories of fiery wrath
Destruction on a savage scale
Swept away under the evermore
rug of silt below
Only the forged pillars retain the lost
rememberings of that fateful day
Scorched underneath my feet.

Time's relentless march no more
ever present than here
Where both man and nature
refuse to be brought to submission.

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Haiku for a change

Breeze gently shakes leaves
below water kisses rocks
Peace in hilltop space

Mist hiding sail boats
raindrops staining blossom white
skylark stays anchored.

Raindrops hitting roof
clouds hugging low to my smile
tears of laughter fall

Music lifts the mood
rain still falling outside glass
bass drowns out rains beat

Hawk carved across sky
sun strains through mackerel clouds
A feast for the eyes

Sumptuous smells taunts
sunshine mocks with late pink dusk
blue flames create warmth

Sunday, 15 May 2011


As I sit,  quietly watching
                     I see them rise
                              like paper butterflies
gently now,  before my eyes
                up from their sea of green
                         into your water colour painting
each one, carrying secret dreams
                      precious load destined
                              for those who choose freedom.

(Photo by Fee Easton @bootcoot photo prompt for Oneshotsunday @Onestoppoetry 15/05/11)

Do you believe in Unicorns?

Before you judge me please, stop and read this little plea, and think a while before you speak, and ask that dreaded question, that is sitting on the tip of your tongue, relentless in your unconscious pursuit of either polite or career assisting conversation.

The sentence that your itching to release, that I am with ever sickening realisation, loathing my requirement to answer is, 'What is it you do?' Now try as my mind might, I am not allowed to say, 'well breathing and listening right now' and maybe add 'standing up, and maybe wishing I wasn't here', or simply just 'I wish you hadn't asked that'. No society and manners dictate, that I must reply in timely fashion, with the title of my current means of making money.

This might provoke a further question or two, until you can establish that I am, one: earning less that you, or two: less intelligent or interesting, or even three: lacking in the education that you deem necessary to be part of valued society, and therefore worthy of your time..


This is not me! I am not defined by a job title, I am more than just a number, auto created by some software system in the human relations department of some dusty office, in some business that requires my time.

Intelligence moves on different lines to that of pure logic, some of the greatest minds, can struggle when asked to carry out the most basic practical of tasks. If your lack of creative thinking, cannot see past my mode of surviving, it begs the question, how interesting can you possibly be, that you cannot see, that I may have more to offer than you can possibly imagine.

So maybe you should ask a different question, after you have asked 'who are you?' or read my name, take the brave step to ask instead, 'what do you enjoy?' 'what makes your heart skip a beat with excitement?' 'Do you believe in Unicorns, if so why?'

Then maybe you will understand, what a vast pool of fascinating, wonderful, creative, imaginative and heartwarming people you have passed by, just by uttering that one awful closing question.

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Powder sky

The two vast oceans do collide outside
a land spread-eagled far before us lies.
Sky stretching arms beyond this reach out wide
as they embrace, a drawing for my eyes.
Clouds tumbling now across a powder sky
the sunlight deer are racing over hill.
My friend the wind is calling me up high
to dance he says would be the greatest thrill.
He breathes a playful song within my ears
a warm suggestion now he laughs at me.
His promise he will banish all my fears
if just I will release, my mind runs free.
I close my eyes so feeling soft caress
how does he always find a way to bless.

Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Face value

My eyes of sparkling hazel green
see beyond technicolour dream

My hair darkest shade of blonde crowned
cascades a kaleidoscope of gold and browns

My skin a light but some what olive tone
warmed by sunshine can hold its own

My nose is Roman so it defines
yet childhood accident breaks its line

My smile is wary but when shown sincere
it crinkles my eyes but better than tears

My mind is alight with pictures and words
churning relentlessly then forming like curds

My ears are open to verse and song
life playing my soundtrack all day long

My heart always welcomes new friends
when you see my face can you see past the lens?

(Picture taken by Beth Cross on Midsummer's Day)

The Green Man gets an outing!

With grateful thanks to the # Poem Daily

Friday, 29 April 2011

Severn Way

Skylarks sing love duets
high above the grassy flood plains.

Suns heat belying early spring
tempered only by deceptive cooling wind.

Haze casts an ethereal vision
of bridges spanning the murky depths.

The constant hum of human intervention
feels locked out of this water's edge oasis.

My soul lifted in peaceful harmony
I feel me, and know this is how it should be.

(NaPoWriMo 2011)

Thursday, 28 April 2011

A Desert Rose

I yearn for understanding and yet I fear, I am further from the answers than ever before.

Was it an illusion I felt? Did the fabric deceive me?  My soul twisted and torn, left almost forlorn, all just a slight of hand.

Did I just misunderstand? when I opened the door offering trust, showing what I am. Was I measured and found lacking?

I feel the Universe is yoked in irony, is this some cruel joke? That yet again I fall on my face, tasting the dirt and blood intermingling.

As I rise from the earth once again, I wish to look in the eyes of he who judged me harshly. I want to react, but it is not in me.

All I have is my affection, the rest left dropped like shoes shed when running in the grass. I wait for the petals to wilt and fall.

But by some damnation, a divine twisted intervention, it lives still. A desert rose in the wilderness of this small moon.

You have no comprehension, understanding or suggestion. Either that, or a blackened soul of midnight coal free of obligation.

Yet still you have a diamond, stuck in the tread of your soul. It cannot be scratched by your endeavours shining still, I smile.

No dream or delusion, free from restrain of searching. Heart, body, mind and soul singing melodies, only wishing you could see.

(Picture kindly provided by Peter Wilkin with grateful thanks)

Cool Comfort gets an airing..

With grateful thanks to Peter Wilkin and Sweet Tweets.

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Cool Comfort

Cool comfort cast by
cautious caress of the breeze.

Beauty buried beneath her
burnish bronze yet fiery eyes.

Ethereal existence endangered
when evil enterprise strikes the soul.

Shadows stalk Seraphim not
seeking shelter from deep within.

While white waves meander
wild weathered sky, I wonder why.

Monday, 25 April 2011

The Blessing

He died, just like that!  Brutal fact.

A life of action finished finally, trapped immobile, in body passed its sell by.

The timing was not his, but the setting, how he would have wished.

Not for him the rhythmical buzz of the morphine drive.

Nor the metallic taste of death, clinging to the throat, stinging the eyes.

For when the mind grows weak or cynical, weary of this world.

Death is a blessing, bestowed on us all.

(NaPoWriMo 2011)

(Oneshotwednesday 27/04/11)

Sunday, 24 April 2011

The Green Man

The Carver's hand, gnarled like the oak tree
tired with age,  his wisdom a spirit sage.

In the blue and green dappled sun shade
the carpet of his workshop, he works his age old trade.

For he must serve Jack o' the Green, time spent in careful toil,
leaves spilling southward as he speaks, fertility leaping forth.

Trees born six centuries ago still hold his signature
his face set in stone, looks out across timeless land.

After the crops are reaped and livestock safely gathered
harvest is celebrated before first frost rings the moon.

Then, and only then, he may rest his weary head
returning to his winter sleep once more.

(NaPoWriMo 2011)

(With grateful thanks for picture kindly provided by Peter Wilkin)

Friday, 22 April 2011

Wednesday, 20 April 2011

Mystic whisper

How did this begin
when did you come in
feels like forever
the story of never.
Where will it end?

I did not ask
no request made
yet you invade my being
I forgave
and still you taunt my mind.

You are nothing more
than an illusion
a mystic whisper
a shadow soul
a distance voice,
touching my inner space
with soft caress.

Not yet free
both held
within the fabric
on different paths of reality
you don't see me.

The question is

What would make you happy?
What would you like me to do?
or not do.. for you friend.
To be all I can
I need to know what is required?
So I can change this world.
I will be me, but in better form.
Can you see?
Or are you looking past
to your own reflection.
I go about it all wrong
but with the best intentions.
Help me please?
You answer is resounding
ringing in my ears,
but I cannot say it was
what I would choose to hear.

No tears

Cool breeze touches me.
I know what I must do
but oh.. so lonely!
Just the thought
makes me miss you
so bad already.
No tears for fear
has hold of them all.
Trust in truth will not let me fall.
Failure to act is to fail you
the one thing I must not do.
So I will do what must occur
no effort will be spared,
to ensure your welfare
peace of mind and
happiness yours not mine.
Then after all is done
I can curl up for a moment alone
remembering the joy you brought
and quietly wish I had not.

Tuesday, 19 April 2011

Phoenix rising

I feel the power rising from within
she is a mighty yet elegant feeling.
You caught a feather of her tail
as she was rising, she remembers you still.
But what are you to me now?
You who burned so brightly
searing a mark into souls satin
releasing a Pandora reaction.
You who are now different
and yet still unchanged.

As She flies on I look back
I see what I was
then inward at what I am.
I look forward again
to what I am to become.
Burning still I see..
will you fly with me?
For this time I cannot wait for you
for she is carrying me.

Take my hand if you wish
the choice as ever is yours dear one?
Forever is a promise I can't own
but your invitation was
signed in the cool light of day.
Trust is hard earned
but once there
will reward you with
a loyalty without measure.
Will you accept the challenge?

Sunday, 17 April 2011

Sickly Sweet

"She is perfect"
they say, exclaiming with delight.
"Just what we are looking for"
they gush, at first sight.
She is amazing"
they cry, shadows form
behind hooded eyes.
"Just one thing we need you to do"
they plead, eventually.
"You will have to change all that you are"

(NaPoWriMo 2011)

The Paladin

Thoughts swim within
the opaque waters
clustering momentarily
then drifting apart.
Contemplation of art
played back in reverse
immersion in culture
of ages who refused
to be forgotten,
give over.
The Palladian Bridge
joining separate parts
crossing the gap between us
over dark blue of deep water.
Opulence of few
retained by the mob
was this a pure creation?

(NaPoWriMo 2011)


The sharp intrusive
tang of wild garlic,
an always reminder
where I am
where I once was.
Sat miles from the place
my memories belong
transported by a fragrance
through the fabric of space and time
to the wooded edge
of a nameless field.
Part of my heart
remains there still.
That day I sat
down by her side
I kissed her goodbye,
then held her while she died.

(NaPoWriMo 2011)

(posted for Oneshotwednesday on 190411)

Ghost trees

Walking in the dark
I see the ghost trees,
we create this look
with our artificial light.
Eery whiteness looming
out of charcoal shadows,
has all the makings
of stories from days of old.

The river runs along side
this road and path
I wander tonight.
Listening to its song
walking me along
I cannot feel alone.

Saturday, 16 April 2011

Four Poems in one E-Publish today :)

With slight amazement and grateful thanks :)

Secret Island, Two fold, Stone bridge & Secret view get a mention.

Two fold

Sat up on Borrowdale
I can feel a swell of joy.
Can I catch it in a jar
to take it home as well?

To see him happy
is to feed my soul.
This gift I have given
is paying back two fold.

Stone Bridge

Journeys destination found
a jewel among a royal crown.
Mans stone bridge sits proud
above natures patchwork shroud.
Her use of water splits and divides
spreading around for far and wide
leaving spaces to show
carved rocks rising from below
touched with green and gold,
sunlit for me to behold.
Welcome to Ashness bridge
it was foretold.

Secret view

Green throne  sat above
her lake she so loved.
Gazing gently down
she nods to her kings,
they tower above her
across from the shore.
Here she reigns
with views of nature's wonder.
My existence challenged
as I sit close
to the voids edge,
eyes drawn down.

She smiles

Sitting on the rocks
she smiles.
Life unfolds
before her.

Secret Island

Waves lap against the shoreline
setting the score, for more.
Wind now a breeze
coming towards me
sat on driftwood,
viewing secret island.
Trees, lawns, hidden buildings
whose places are these.

I wish I could lend you my eyes

Like mounds of clay
with folds and creases,
some parts pointed
others rounded.
Against the clear blue sky
the purple clad mountains
are painted green and gold
as they meet the skyline.
I wish I could lend you my eyes
for you to see this vision,
this immense creation
would surely fire your imagination.

The magic

Standing below Aira Force falls
I find myself catching rainbows
the magic finds me still.

Crescendo at the last

Only the most loving heart
could contemplate such a work of art.
Crafted with such skill and care
my mind melds into my stare.
Stretched out in a winding walk,
its caress a relaxing thought.
With each set of falls
drawn further into its enthrall,
I wait expectantly
for its final ecstasy
crescendo at the last,
closing with Aira Force.


Looking upon a promised land
its composition perfected nature,
I drink deeply with my eyes
my soul relaxed, leaves a sigh.
Lit by my sun's ecstatic smile
this place now held in my mind,
added to memories choir
holding a candle
burning forever.
If I have not found heaven now,
I would not wish to be there.

Poet's seat

Again we meet
my Poet's seat
my stone cushion
a writers throne.
Aside the river
spread out wide
running shallow above
the scattered rocks.
I watch him play
wading out
half listening
for sudden shout.


The journey began
hunting for waterfalls,
though soon became
me capturing rainbows.
Painting landscapes
in my soul
a myriad of colours,
names unknown.

A revelation in finding
mirrors so large,
no blow to the heart
could ever shatter
such an art.
My love renewed,
I am so much more
than I was before.

Sorrow in a name

At Red Pit, above Brothers water
panoramic view
through mountain pass
the narrow road winds down.
No trees live here
wind scraped rock and grass
mountains outline defined
against the china blue sky.
Sorrow in a name
the brothers lost their lives,
beware the danger then
of stepping out on ice.


Rewarded for our effort
welcomed by the sun
allowed safe passage
into the higher kingdom.
The Divines, the Ancient ones
spirits of mountain climbs
Kings and Queens of rugged land
owners of the fearsome crags
open the gateway today.
for poetic heart to play.
Here I sit, atop Queen Latrigg.


Wind whistles low
in a language I don't know.
For I am just a foreigner
to this valley land.


Warmed by sun
soul revived, revitalized.
Stroked by wind
body soothed, gently.
Soundtrack of birdsong
mellowing the mind.
Sitting up high
a final goodbye
watching the fisher
king and queen.
Viewed by so many
the ospreys are kissing.

Wednesday, 13 April 2011

Beneath the fall

Beneath the fall,
a tangled pile,
of tree boughs,
caught and held,
on green boulders,
water rushes past,
leaving this till last,
it will collect in time,
when floods return, alas.

In the shade

Her name is fern
so watch her burn
in cool shades
of emerald flame.
There is no shame
no one to blame
her life is full of tears.
But these give life
to all her kind
the shade loving dwellers.

Water Music

The stream sings it song,
ever long,
it pays me no heed,
but in doing its deed,
it give me sanctuary.

The Great Wood

Walking on,
she stumbled upon,
stone steps,
of slate stone,
they lead up,
to wooden bridge,
standing high above,
rivers tumbling edge,
she found the fairy's land,
hidden high in the Great Wood.

Waiting for Spring

The wind whips through,
these wild woods, anew,
tall yet slender and slim,
the trees swing to the song,
the wood stands high on side,
the view sweeping and stunning,
the lake is dark and deep,
these trees still sleep,
waiting for spring to dawn.

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Raging against pain

Undeserving of such contempt,
the urge to vent, overwhelming,
what have I said or done,
or was it an omission,
heartache adds to pain,

I wish I didn't care,
I wish I had a heart of stone,
so hard you could not carve your name,
even with a diamond pen,

I swear these tears,
of poison ink, will be the last,
I pray,   I think,
how to make a lie,
into reality,

What is it, you want from me,
you have all I have to give,
why then torture me,
by leaving me,
in a state, of heightened anxiety,

I confess,
I do not profess, to understand,
only know this feeling,
in my chest,
is slowly,
destroying all I ever held dear.

All the world

I look upon his face,
I find him beautiful,
so full of youth,
talent yet unsung,
he is only one,
but if he were to smile,

All the world is yours,
go forth and find it,
revel in your free spirit,
live it,
if you get time,
save a piece,
for my mind.

Softly now

I love you like the first snowflake
to kiss the frozen ground
on a moonlit winter's night
when no one is around.

I love you like the milky white magnolia bud
atop the highest branch
opening its beauty
for only the sky's eyes.

I love you like the last night star
still hanging in the inky sky.
As the sun starts to rise
I feel you in my heart.

I love you like the fleeting glimpse
of the rainbow's magic appearance
in all its glorious spectrum,
transparently for only me.

I love you like the parched earth
welcoming the summer storm.
Until you came I was sleeping,                  
now new life springs forth.

I love you like the skin soft breeze
that tickles me, whispering sweet words
inspiring me to breathe my own creativity.

I love you in the only way I know, by baring my soul.
I ask for nothing in return, for what I have is joy
to know you are happy. That is all I desire...

Moonlit folly gets picked up

Thanks to the # Poem daily :)

With grateful thanks to Peter and Riprap :)

Monday, 11 April 2011

Moonlit folly

You say to trust lust,
I say, I can never go that way,
it would have me chasing stardust,
wishing on a star, far far away,

If I allow myself,
what delicious dreams I could have,
wandering without a care,
naked in his head,

I could reel, in senses overload,
to feel his skin, hear his words,
feel his lips, drawing me in, what a sin,

To ride astride, a unicorn,
lit only by moonlight,
to hear him whisper my name,
such wicked delight,

To roll within, a passionate embrace,
face to face, like dragons locked in deathly grip,
never letting go, lest he slip away,

No, love is a hard taskmaster,
that is for sure, but lust alone,
is but a shadow, a half measure,
leading me to folly's door.

Sunday, 10 April 2011

On the Bridge

As I wander restfully
I stop on a bridge above a brook.
He is not here, the one so dear
who brings my shine.
So, may I borrow from the past
words and thoughts made to last?
Poets now long dead but
far from forgotten, celebrated for all time.
When I am dead, what will be of mine?

The Price

He smiles on her with sunshine,
he does not explain why,
he gave her such capacity,
he gives no reasons for love,
he does not apologise for,
the subsequent, tearing pain,
he feels she has still gained.

The Circle

Today I see the purple heads of divine
inhabited mountain tops sunlit in full glory,
wind chasing the white grey clouds
like sheep across the land
Surrounded by a giant ring of majestic
mountain kings, each holding its own
a wonder all alone, uncountable stories known.

As I sit quietly within another smaller ring
I do not wonder why, I just look to the sky.
A ring within a ring all magic encompassed here in.
The ancients knew these things so formed Castlerigg Circle,
sculpture still standing. I am enveloped by its aura.

Revised on 27/05/11 - included in the # Poem Daily that same day.
with grateful thanks - The # Poem Daily

A Squirrel's Tale, Atop the Rocks & Can you hear them breathe

Have all been posted in # poem daily recently. With grateful thanks :)

A Squirrel's tale

Rufus the Red and clan,
live happily in Island kingdom,
a world of woodland green,
they were always to be seen,
working way up high, in the canopy,

Then one day came an invader,
young Gerrard the Grey,
he found success was easy,
in so many ways,
his family were large and brave,
breaking all the rules,
not bothering with pine cones,
they scavenged all the day,

The Red clan in disarray,
scattered far and wide,
but such was the Grey's hunger,
no where was safe to hide,
so to the final strongholds,
the Red clan did run,
here at Dodd's wood,
the battle rages on.

Water colour

Painting the picture,
down from the top,
dove grey clouds,
bearing down softly,
on shadowy mountain tops,
black and grey give way,
to murky green and grey,
streaked with earth brown,
lower still a golden yellow,
merges with a grassy green,
patchwork quilt with redden orange,
yew tree green of standing pines,
above steel blue water,
rippled by rain,
rising up on my right,
a hillside of dead red bracken,
lit only by canary yellow,
of the sharp gorse flowers.


Into the Valley

Dropping down now,
into the bowels of the valley,
Dwarf like kingdom appears,
slate scattered everywhere,
left by Sculptor's hand,
as he dragged his fingers,
carving out this land,
rain passing like veiled curtains,
set against the towering crags,
I feel my own insignificance,
my speck like form,
upon this planet's surface.

Honister Pass

Rising up from the pass,
entering the higher plains,
land owned by the Gods,
shaped and hewn,
by wind, rain and storm,
nature clings down low,
holding fast to rock and slate.

Land of cloud and rock,
coloured green and brown,
streams cut silver paths,
escaping always down,
barren vastness, come and view,
but only mountain sheep may stay.


In awe of gravity,
sat by nature's window,
the power of water in motion,
evokes emotions mirror,
we are but visitors,
within this timeless wilderness,
specks of humanity,
crawling on the floor,
of the gods playground.

Friday, 8 April 2011


Crystal clear the water,
view sharp, unhindered,
pebbles, of all shapes and sizes,
lying side by side,
I ask myself why,
somethings, are not,
so very clear,
uneasy in mind's eye,
balance out of kilter,
I am giving more,
but I am out of favour.

April Sun

Sun sets over water,
sliding slowly behind,
purple charcoal horizon,
mountain skyline defined,

As twilight beckons,
silhouette time approaches,
love struck songbirds,
keep up their sonnets,
singing for one last chorus,

Now the air is cooling,
as night encroaches,
bringing final curtain,
on a perfect spring surprise.

Thursday, 7 April 2011

Heaven's mirror

Sat on mirror's edge,
pure calm resides,
the merest hint of ripple,
fades to clear reflection,
the sky blue dips low,
caressing mountain basin,
the framing for my mirror,
heaven shows through,
the surface of Ullswater.

Sun soaked gold

For I have seen with my own eyes,
his golden trumpets all alive,
standing on the shore,
of my looking glass water.

In the mine

Within the slate mine,
world cut from blue grey,
crafted into monolith display,
painted by relentless rain,
clouds close in, taking hold,
hugging close to mountain sides,
shadows in my eyes.

Matters of the heart

For I could not have known,
the raindrops falling down,
were God's tears of sorrow,
shed for our latest trial.

Museless mirth

I wanted to write you a poem,
not just some mere little scribble,
the poem to master all others,
that would set the page on fire,

A poem that would rip you heart out,
and leave it still beating in your mouth,
that would reduce you to tears in a second,
then have you laughing out loud the next,

A poem that would sail a thousand dreams,
then inspire your greatest achievement,
That would aid the performance of your life,
and be thought of tenderly,
in moments of worry and strife,

A poem that would seduce your senses,
setting alight your wildest fantasies,
have you begging to stop, yet yearning for more,
like making love in a thunderstorm,

A poem that, after one reading,
would leave you no doubt,
no other could satisfy your desire,
then would live in your mind forever,

But try as I might, the words won't come right,
and so I am sad to say,
I am sending you this, signed with a kiss,
from my mind to your lips.

Tuesday, 5 April 2011


Just off the winding road,
following the rough shod path,
through boulder strewn woods,
on side of mountain edge,
this world belongs, to Elven Queen,
clothed in every shade of green,
her royal moss coats everything,
Smells of damp earth, quiet yet,
a magical rumble calls me,
further into her fortress,
There lies the source,
the power of Nature's cycle,
rumble turns to deafening roar,
aside magnificent Lodore falls,
raging torrent of white and brown,
a million gallons hurtling down,
a crashing dance over boulders found,
entranced, I am held fast.

The Sculptor

With water, ice, and fire,
he draws on a scale,
we cannot imagine,
then, gently she touches all,
colouring it in,
Nature, working tirelessly,
for him, The Sculptor.

Saturday, 2 April 2011

Atop the rocks

As I sat atop, Crooks Peak rocks,
I surveyed the view across, the sunlit Somerset,
out to the east stand the Tor, the store, of Glastonbury's magic,
moving left, an almost perfect round, Axebridge's glittering blue pond,
Cheddar Gorge nestles close by, just hidden from my eye,
then to the south lies, Brent Knoll, standing alone,
a single rise, above the flattened land,
today above the river, hangs a dirty mist,
mirroring the muddy water, spread vastly out below,
As I watch, the wind is clearing, even this for me,
Sand point now showing, it snakes out westerly,
pointing the way to Wales, Just visible beneath hazy cloud,
the soft rumble of traffic, rises from the M5,
meandering beneath my gaze, it bothers me not,
for my ever companion, the wind, is lively today,
Pulling at my hair, chilling my ears, begging me to come play.

Friday, 1 April 2011

Can you hear them breathe

The spirits of the trees,
they comfort me,
providing support, for my back,
against smooth bark,
standing silently,
tall and mighty,
yet humble to the wind,
lest they fall too soon,

The sounds of the woods,
Soothe pained mind,
breeze gently rustling,
leaves on trees and ground,
an orchestra of birdsong,
greets those who listen,
the melodies sweet and high,
fill my sky for me,

I love these woods,
I know them well,
like old friends,
secrets they hold,
they have witnessed,
my fear, my tears,
my raging anger,
my ultimate bliss,
my stolen kiss,

Today I ask for nothing more,
than for solitude,
a quiet moment,
time to thaw,
to let go, yet know,
my roots are planted firm,
in my beautiful existence.

Thursday, 31 March 2011

Walking the line

Try as I might,
I cannot contain,
this beautiful, but,
agonizing pain,

I try to separate,
light from dark,
I keep the boundaries,
black ink sharp,

Yet with each and every,
exquisite word play,
the pen cuts deeper,
into my heart.

Do you remember?

She wanders on, beyond the realms of visual,
seeking further within, letting imagination flow,
leaving body to rest, swimming gently.
Where are you taking me? She asked the white rabbit curiously,
never stopping to think, why him, why me?
Just follow, she does blindly,
The hole was small, but tunnel large,
they moved with ease, passed the roots and stones,
further underground, the air cool there,
damp soil starts to change, colours glow, faint at first,
then growing to spectacular rainbow splash!
Oh she said, I would never have known,
the rabbit smiled once more, he had a cheeky grin,
you have been here before my dear, I lead you in your dreams,
really?, she said, puzzled, she couldn't recall,
seeing such beautiful colours before, he took her hand,
in his soft paw, deceptive in innocence, come on,
down further, he implored, as the rocks gave way,
they fell softly, through golden clouds,
within an indigo sky, she giggled feeling suddenly shy,
what is this world you bring me to? She asked,
he looked surprised, you should know my dear,
you created it all, for me,
I did, she said, trying to remember, such a monumental feat.
Are you sure, are you not the sculptor of it all, he grinned, not at all,
Finally, they landed, gently on their feet, on soft blue grass,
warmed by scarlet sun, shall we dance, he offered,
a hint of a smile crossed her face, why Mr Rabbit, I would be honoured!
Shall we invite all the little birds as well?
Of course he replied, I will dance with all,
who want to, that is, the girls of course,
as she took his paw once more, the music came from nowhere,
they lost themselves in the beat, dancing fast, and slow,
moving in time to the rhythm, creating rainbows, of butterflies escaping their feet,
Feeling the heat, she started to tire, eventually,
he suggested a swim in the river, glistening a ludicrously vivid pink,
she could think of nothing better, both jumping in together,
laughing at the coolness of the water, he watched her recover herself composure,
Are you enjoying yourself, he asked casually,
of course, she replied, light shining in her eyes, what is there not to like here,
He got immense satisfaction, knowing she was happy,
he leaped up once more, lets go see the dragon trainer!
Who is he, said she wary,
he is a great friend of mine, you brought him here too,
remember, try as she might, no memory came to her,
let's visit him then, she cried, racing ahead, he caught her up easily,
see you know the way already, he teased her,
laughing more, they ran on hand in paw,
They knew they were approaching his home, when rocks surrounded them,
shining with every colour, glittering their magic allure
started to sing a crystalline tune, high and piercing, yet sweet,
she looked, and saw him, clothed in emerald cloak, he smiled,
and said welcome back my dear, what did you bring him for, with a hidden wink.
The white rabbit bristled a little, she had forgotten how
He said, I thought I'd remind her.
Calm little rabbit, said he,
she would not have come any other way, anyone for tea?
Oh tea would be lovely, said she, come on please,
she smiled at the rabbit, oh alright then, said he, winking back at he,
mind your step, he said, I have left some eggs, somewhere,
little draglets played with chickens, like children on the floor,
oh she said, I have never seen pastel green dragons before,
that is because you left awhile, they have seen you, never fear,
after tea, reluctantly, she knew the time had come,
dear rabbit, she looked at him, holding back her tears,
I know its time to leave, but will you walk me to the door,
once more she pleaded,
he looked at her shining eyes, and felt her pain,
of course I will dear one, just come again soon,
nothing would please me more, than to return here,
but will you be waiting for me, that is the question,
he smiled, I am a busy one, but knock upon my door,
and if free, I will happily play with thee,
she knew this was the best he had to offer, so smiling bravely,
she hugged the dragon trainer goodbye, and out towards the purple sky,
they walked side by side,
you are starting to remember, he enquired, yes she replied,
it has been fun though, wouldn't you agree,
they hugged at the door, she kissed him on the cheek,
thanks dear friend, take care out there, outside this world of mine,
he grinned once more, and ran off skipping,
she opened her eyes, had she really dreamt it all,
just then the birds started twittering out side of her window,
she smiles, I wonder what today has in store for me?

Sunday, 27 March 2011

Mind's eye - (Inspired by Roger Allen Baut's picture)

Reflection draws the eye,
a shining point of white light,
surrounded, by silver grey,
glittering sharp above,
rippled blue and watermark,
focus smudges behind,
leading on to sparkling touches,
no horizon, a watery feel, for sure,

Opening my mind,

I see cats eyes, looking at me,
rail tracks of blue, painted carelessly,
a world revealed, quartz topped mountains,
rising above, a sea of ink and blue cloud,
hiding its inhabitants, from our prying eyes.

(Posted for One Shot Sunday - A Poetry Challenge)

Saturday, 26 March 2011

Fear not

Storm is raging, just beyond the edge, calm has now descended, here where I stand, my land, people of choice, hear my voice, mindwind,

whispering softly now, gently lifting leaves, hear me, feel me breathe, my heart beats slow once more, not keeping score, happy,

Freed from Iron bars, holding fast, pain that lasts, sweet release, what bliss is this, we smile and know, all is well for now,

When storm comes full circle, hitting with tremendous force, holding on to knowledge, safe in the hearts, of precious few, anchor now,

Trust and faith, well placed, helps ride the storm, with pride and grace, pure pleasure then, like gazing on a unicorn.

Friday, 25 March 2011


The wild and wicked, welsh dragoness,
loved tempting young men to their death,
it was the highlight of her day,
made up for all that blinking rain,

her burlesque beauty, was renowned,
known about, for miles around,
but with a flick of golden claw,
the amorous end up no more,

Her fiery kiss, rarely missed,
its target once selected, it made for light,
barbecue bites, should she be offended,

Her lusty look so strong, one young draglett,
did escape, fleeing across the boarder,
seduced by an angel, he liked to call Nigella,

Though her life was full of fun,
she craved to meet the only one,
he who could tame the beast,
not end up part of the feast,

the mystic man from darkest Yorkshire,
escaped only by the thinnest whisker,
trained dragon master thou he was,
he had not bargained on a keeper,

when Gorgeous George, came striding in,
she laughed aloud, at very thought,
how could he, resist her smile,
he'd be the first, for awhile,

But with his honeyed, foreign accent,
and disarmingly, charming, smile,
he made an offer, she just couldn't resist,
said, come research with me a while.

( written for a lovely Welsh Poetess - Shan )

Tuesday, 22 March 2011

Silent Stepmonster (what is never said)

She's not my MOTHER! such a little statement, such a simple fact. Did you ever stop to think, that I already know that. Don't you think I might of noticed after all this time, then maybe if you were mine, would everything be fine?

Love is a powerful emotion, as I'm sure you now agree, but when did I sign up, for you to assign the blame on me? Was I the one who shattered your fairytale childhood, NO, I was just the next best punch bag, for your screwed up loss.

I'm really very sorry, it didn't happen how you wanted, but damn it, I did all I could to try and make you happy! So sorry that my attempts to help, aggrieved you so very much, maybe if I'd lied, or somehow let you down, would you then have felt, a little more in touch?

So ladies listen please, if you should start to fall, don't be fooled to thinking, his children can't hurt you at all, I would not suggest, that you turn and run, but please accept, you may become, a Stepmonster at some time.

Monday, 21 March 2011

Amuse me please

restlessly waiting, drawn like a moth,
to the flames, craving kindred soul,

you were not there, in the beginning, yet,
seem like furniture, within my mind,

I offered, to show you, my dark side,
but, you were already there,

tendrils of my soul, intertwine,
in my mind view, when I think of you,

where once I was torn, now I stretch,
fitting you in, still burning my skin,

achingly attached, invisible thread holds fast,
my muse teases my soul,

Still, he makes me wait,

touched by genius, tempered by sorrow,
shaped by hardship, driven by epithany,

reflected by my eyes,

caught in the moment, soul spilling,
secret scarlett, my muse's smile formed,

flattering me, gentle words, mixed
with laughter, inspires me more,

suddenly, the mirror shook, sensing,
maybe, too many words said,

her scarlett flowed out, touching, mingling,
curling around, dancing with gold, green and purple,

slowing now, floating gently down, touching ground,
tentatively, all good things, have a beginning and an end,

Stolen once more, her passionate escape,
please return it, when your finished,

a living walking contradiction, howling at the moon,
she saw her reflection, once more,

something hidden still, she wonders what, why does it hide,
she has show her all, maybe foolishly,

his laughter, hauntingly, echos still,

touched by powers, known not, affected by feel,
ripped from moorings, set adrift in the stream,

confused, yet certain, this is no dream,

cruel twist of fate, or heaven's gate, soul flooded with light,
then turns to night, seconds pass like hours, waiting for you,

does he know,

to drink the sweet soul nectar, would be a treat worth trying for,
but I am not yet worth that dying thought, on your lips,

She looks once more, through the mirror, seeing the angel, behind,
shining bright, she turns once again, into the darkness, her night,

although his parting dims my sky, washing colour from my eyes,
up from the horizon comes, he who is my sun.

(Posted for Oneshotwednesday)

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Poetry please

I feel the desperate craving,
creeping through my veins,
aching from my insides,
consuming me, beyond saving,

irrational, as it really is,
I have to have my fix,
or suffer slowly in silence,
for such a crime as this,

Left too long I start to shake,
talking to myself, chiding,
laughing at the little thoughts,
my body braced, against its make,

No needles are required,
for my choice, my obsession,
cooked up within my mind,
for only you can fire, my imagination.

Smokestack strikes

Rhythm washing over me,
feeling the beat rise,
light tap on drums skins,
matching bass's deep, lasting tones,
I am rinsed in blues,

swaying softly, relaxation flows,
pace drops, slowing down,
deep, lustful, bass notes,
accompany, his growling moan,
blue haze surrounds,

Harmonica, sharp yet sweet,
quick steps, dancing in time,
sounds of the train line,
he sings, higher now,
a lighter shade of blue,

Light dims, within the mind,
slide caresses, strings on guitar,
slower, even, than before,
organ whispers, behind,
his soulful, blue soaked words.

Inspired by listening to
but also worth reading while listening to Howlin' Wolf Smokestack Lightning  Thanks Peter :)

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Through the Mirror gets reflected on its first day

With grateful thanks to Onestoppoetry (this will be my 10th poem post in an e-magazine, since The Linnet started)

Through the Mirror (oneshotwednesday)

She is his moon, exquisite beauty,
flawless form, holding on,
with the lightest of touches,
to his gravity, she shines, even in daytime,

He is her Sun, radiant, loving her,
beyond measure, spreading warmth,
he lights her way, king of her day,
she shines within his sky, 

Worlds apart, so far, and yet, near,
under the same stratosphere,
they appear as stars, in the inky black,
of their dark sides, night,

His reach is long, far more,
than his comprehension, she feels him like a kiss,
on her eyelids, with ice cold firelight,
his gift, more than, his words

So at the outer edge, they meet,
in the middle,
touching fingertips, through the mirror,
his light, dancing in her reflection,

Celestial bodies, separated,
divine within, their own realities,
meet clandestine, in the night,
in the dreams, of each others fantasy.

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Scent of winter blue

fluorescent light gives plastic feel,
depressant to the summer highs,
incessant cold and grey skies,
quiescent in our best laid plans,
suppressant required for comfort now,
tumescent feeling holds us down,
adolescent almost in irritation,
evanescent to pass if sunlight shows,
luminescent signs of fireflies,
effervescent joy bubbles forth,
incandescent now as heart warms,
iridescent flashes of rainbows show,
crescent moon salutes spring's smile.

Saturday, 12 March 2011

Friday, 11 March 2011

Humanity’s profanity

Social conscious pricked,
By devastation wrought,
Upon our brothers out east,
Within the ring of fire,
Destruction brought by earth’s twitch,
Swept away by dirty flood,

Libya wake up,
You have the chance to dictate,
Your own fate,
Not like poor Japan,
For all the atrocities man can bestow,
Know, that with a flick of her wrist,
Nature will pale this into insignificance,

Gaddafi! Yes, I’m talking to you,
You have had your score in ten,
Release your men, from the task,
Killing their mothers, fathers, brothers,
These are your people,
You claim to love,
The world’s eyes are open now,

Libya lay down your weapons and talk,
Your cry for freedom has been heard,
Will the world powers listen?
God I hope and pray so,
For my heart is torn,
At the profanity that is war,
When compassion is needed,
Focus required on the terrible fate,
nature’s cycle has caused.

Thursday, 10 March 2011

Savour the moment

As evening slips slowing into night,
a little rushed they leave the house,
slowly anticipation takes hold,
both feel that special time of old,

the re-ignited smiles, and familiar touch,
conversation flows back and forth,
he appreciates her curves,
hidden beneath cloth,
she melts once more,
into his dark brown eyes,

savouring far more than taste,
appreciating sharing space,
stealing the occasional kiss,
planning adventures, sun soaked fun,
dreaming of summer, still to come,

sipping slowly the last drop,
from her now empty wine glass,
reflecting on meals of the past,
the happiness seeped deep,
as they wander home to sleep.

Behind closed doors is revealed

With grateful thanks

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

Behind Closed Doors gets a mention

With grateful thanks :)

Majestic moment - (Tanka)

Swan graces water

like a visiting queen bee

casting eyes around

she sees within me the scene

sensing my admiration

Behind closed doors

oneshotwednesday -

The public face smiles, for the world to see,
but behind closed doors, it was only you and me,
It always caught me by surprise, I don’t know why,
Something simple, something small,
not worthy of mention at all,
yet as the air charged, with your frustration red,
the sense of panic would set in, bringing aching dread,
desperation, frantic searching, to recover calm,
I watched the scene played from above,
Like a movie in slow motion, it was never love.

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

Early morning swans - (Gogyohka)

Gracefully they glide ~ across shining water ~ sun strong ~ battles frosty mist ~ swans pay me audience

Sunday, 6 March 2011

Sand bay point

Sun burnishing water,
shimmering golden,
flats stretch for miles,
mud marked by water,
like fingers drawn through clay,
jutting rocks,
tempered by the storms,
now sit proud above,
the gentle calm today.

Sand bay - (Tanka)

Serene smile of gold

Glinting off each fold in mud

Water drawn far back

Gentle pattern rippling

carries the eyes far beyond

(Picture by kind permission of Mr N Baker - Frozen in Time images)

Friday, 4 March 2011

Life's Tapestry

When she was very small,
timid as a mouse,
told to speak up,
stand up for yourself,

be your own person,
stand your own ground,
be proud of what your are,
enjoy your childhood charms,

they didn't explain,
no warning given,
of the harsh realities,
that would cut her vision,

confusion in her eyes,
clouding her happy smile,
not wishing to be the best,
just to fit in with all the rest,

Parents felt so helpless,
watching confidence wilt,
efforts to save her failed,
just adding to her guilt,

moving on she thought,
new people, fresh start,
but demons carried in her,
corroded the clean heart,

infatuation dressed as love,
stole her precious innocence,
so trapped within self built cage,
he tortured her teenage existence,

up stepped time, the ever healer,
arrived to save the day,
she found the key, flew away,
up to the hills she knew,

angels came to stay awhile,
but far too soon they left,
alone again once more,
wandered in the darkness,

touched by passion,
yearning for love,
she walked the path,
of broken hearts,

looking for her prince,
with white picket fence,
naive with little defence,
she soon became jaded,

Escaping from the clutches,
Abuse hidden by madness,
returning to the nest again,
discovering life re-invented,

Dancing with her sisters,
Glowing live independence,
she found the world, a better place,
than she ever could imagine,

Then that day arrived,
a knock upon the door,
looking up into a face,
she had not seen before,

His softly spoken words,
enchanted all who heard,
but his heart was sold,
to that little songbird.

My Rock rolled on!
Posted in the # poem daily - Stories with thanks

Settling - (Tanka)

Frosty morning light

cold bites her lips playfully

breath like dragons smoke

forest burns within her eyes

walking in the morning sun

In bloom - (Tanka)

Hazy sun gilds skin

warmth gathered in

flowers paint her hair

sun stays late like lovers kiss

dancing with her soft caress

Awakening - (Tanka)

Whispering she felt

among the trees slumbering

cycle comes full turn

a slow rise not a sudden spark

life emerges dressed in green

Thursday, 3 March 2011

My Rock

You are my solid rock,
my anchor held stead fast,
against the tide of angst,
I marvel at your strength.

we stood together in the rain,
holding hands and faced the pain,
gripped hold as rejection bit,
cried together as our hearts bled,

And when my world,
came crashing down,
you carried me in your arms,
then showed me I was home,

You lit a torch, then I lit mine,
still burning, that united flame,
love beyond a simple feeling,

You are the best of my life,
your name stamped on my soul,
you are the only reason,
that I would wish to grow old,

I gave my all for yours,
my sacrifice not forgot,
My dignity held aloft,
Justified by your truth and love.

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

From the ashes

Phoenix rebirth in fire,
comes a stronger day,
forged from the furnace,
of friendship embrace,

lifted on thermals,
emanating from heart,
soaring understanding,
wings spread apart,

flight path forming,
destination compassion,
conditions are calming,
confidence in view.

Upside down falls off the blog..

Posted in the #poem daily with thanks to Contemplation / Contemporary writing

Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Upside down

Caught by surprise, winded by force,
a slap in the face, tripped up,
knocked down, when my guard wasn't up,

shock kicking in, then comes shivering,
tears start to fall, like so many before,

why do this now, please don't start,
can't fall apart, gone so far beyond,
one slip, is that it, gone,

Flooded now, memories, rip holes,
like swords, inside, cannot hide,
must survive,

yearning for calm, tranquility gone,
love hurts, so much more,
than hate, ever can.

I know it will pass, but tunnel is long,
where is the light, dark hound, be gone.

Must keep the face, not the time to release,
hold on, just, hold on.

Monday, 28 February 2011

Exploring new forms - Tanka

Spring steps forward now
her gown sweeps like gentle rain

she smiles down as sun

waking sleeping plants softly
sprinkling love to all found.

Sunday, 27 February 2011

A mothers love, dear friend

I felt her pain hitting me, howling on the winds of Maine,
her tears cut into my skin, lashing like ice laden rain,

sorrowful was her heart, for injustice from the start,
she yearns to hold her child, without memories defiled,

now a soldier of war, a man with family and more,
maybe he didn't realise, the pain his absence provides,

yet still the boy inside, wanting for his father's eyes,
willing to forgive all, for just one chance to stand tall,

save your tears dear friend, for history will out in the end,
those were not wasted years, you care to much to pretend,

for every little sacrifice, with all the scars cut on your life,
your path may be hard to walk, but you are far more than talk,

right from the start, you were an angel, to our hearts,
you understood our pain, helped us back up again,

so please understand, you are so much more,
than just a mother now, my sweet dear friend.

Saturday, 26 February 2011

Tyntesfield (A pair of Gogyohka)

Wandering ~ in peaceful solitude ~ they wondered ~ in awe of beautiful surrounds ~ did not realise the grounds were closed

 Sunlit today ~ her naked beauty ~ a sight to behold ~ paradigm shift ~ Now scaffolding unfolded

(Picture kindly provided by Mr N Baker - Frozen in time images)

My Friend (Poetry)

It was a fascination, an unexplained obsession,
a need that had to be pursued, I know not why,
I give up asking, but know, that this happened for a reason.

Was this reason for, or because of you,
Maybe, my destiny, a need to become more,
than I ever hope for, to feel a personal success,

Yet as the story unfolds, I find gems,
worth more than bullion gold,
the chance encounters, with poetic souls,

The gifted ones, who with a stroke of the pen,
reduce me to tears, or transport me, to another domain,
who feed me, with food for my heart and mind,

Who humble me, with a kindness of the soul,
strength in the face of adversity, the like I have never known,
Touch by passion, to instill change, upon the world,

So I thank you, most kindly my friend,
for such a perfect introduction,
and for the candle flame, lit for me,
leading me out of the crowded darkness.

Sunrise has moved on

Posted in 'The nance marie Daily' with grateful thanks to Peter Wilkin 


This morning when I woke,
I could not have known,
no knowledge did I have,
of what was to become,

As I started my journey,
It crept up from behind,
A tease in my rear view mirror,
Just a little glimpse of heaven,

Compelled to stop, I obeyed,
Turning to admire,
The full canvas uncovering,
Sunrise of the new day,

First a delicate pink,
Surrounded by indigo clouds,
with tinge of golden yellow,
Inky blue blackness fading fast,

Then like a crescendo,
The colours flood the sky,
Burning orange bleeds,
as molten gold erupts,

I cannot tear my eyes away,
the beauty is too great,
drawn into the moment,
I stand alone in awe,

finally, when it feels like,
It could not ever improve,
Dawn steps out her bed,
It the most delicate of blues.

Good morning world, I love you.

Thursday, 24 February 2011

This dance

What is this dance, I know it well,
yet never have we met,
we circle together, feeling the steps,

like magnets, we are pushed and pulled,
as if against our will, but willingly we meet,
once more, we stare uncomprehending,

the force that draws, beyond the laws,
of known human emotion, circle we must,
for this energy creates, sparks of iridescence,

in timeless space, our sparks do grace,
the air and dreams anew, so here I stand,
a breath a way, still not understanding.

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Double take (encore)

After any artistic performance,
those select, creative, few,
should be entitled to take a bow,

For the audience to applaud,
to show grateful admiration,
at the efforts made for them,

I often sit in God's theatre,
watching Nature perform,
possibly, the best show, ever put on,

So precious few, show appreciation,
to the architects, of all that we survey,
we have after all, the best seats for today,

After the final curtain, the rain(bow),
an eternal symbol of peace,
In a fleeting magic glimpse.

The very smile of God is next,
carved by Nature herself,
Chesil beach, the longest bow,
seems held for an eternity,

Finally comes special mention,
of precious beings, touched by genius,
pause for the bridges, before you cross.
To admire their beautiful bows.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

Therapy First

Walking down the steps,
looking at the slightly wilted plants,
it still feels, like I am out of place,
yet, down into the basement I go,

she is waiting of course,
a kind, yet oddly stern face,
I imagine she could be a teacher,
if she wanted,

always a glass of water by my side,
she sits down,
takes up her pen and smiles,
so, how are you then?

Monday, 21 February 2011


Is it to late,
Maybe its fate,
This feeling makes me woolly,

For those who go,
But never know,
Beyond the witching hour,

Where colours bleed,
The mind recedes,
Back to the world of dreams,

Our's is a place,
Of wonderous grace,
Where magic kisses the soul,


I felt for the child,
Who was resented,
From the very beginning.

I saw the confusion,
In her eyes,
At her DNA entrapment.

I caught the scent of conflict,
When she looked,
In your scornful eyes.

I tasted the fear,
That crushed her,
As you laughed aloud.

I heard her cry,
Asking why,
You never gave an answer.


Like a creeping blanket of mist, it submerges,
Suffocating willpower, without warning,
Why does he follow, in relentless silence,

Like the angel of death, she flies in, gripping hold,
Feather light on shoulders, taunting whispers,
Why does she always come, breathing poison,

Like cast iron permafrost, it fractures mind,
Destroying tender shoots, crushing its path,
Why was there no warning, to turn the light on.

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Poetic Mission

A one man crusade, to change the world, into a fairer place,
armed only with a pen, he set forth then, a smile upon his face,

He knows not why, he has to strive, and struggle for his art,
but pursue it he must, even if, with angst ridden heart,

Late from the start, but devoted, the learning curve was steep,
immersed in words, he dove in, rewarded with comments sweet,

Infected with the lust, to create, he must, put aside works past,
start anew, always reaching for the heights, of ultimate fulfilment.

(Posted with the kind permission of Mr Gwylym Owen, Poet, Artist, and creative spur. thanks friend )

Working window

Wandering in fields of green,
warmed by the winter sun,
wind dropped to gusty breeze,
surrounded by birdsong,

hawk glides purposefully by,
crows scramble to mock,
eye catches catkins,
spring is on the march,

tractor buzzing in the distance,
gentle rolling landscape,
fields divided evenly,
trees and hedges abound,

so take a moment to look,
please enjoy the view,
from my office window,
for this day anyway.

The death of an Art

Tears formed ~ but never fell ~ for the memory ~ known so well ~ choked the words stuck in her throat. (Gogyohka)

Saturday, 19 February 2011

Give me my dreams

Its 4am, I'm robbed again,
From the world of sleep,
All is quiet, in the dark,
Except the rain, outside the pane,
Driving me insane, dripping constantly,

I desert my bed, moved by pain,
Let him sleep, its his gain,
House is cold, feels surreal,
The only sound, water, all around.

Songs of my years, fill my head,
List won't stop, memories, keep topping up,
Then the words, tumbling out,
Flowing now, like a shout, begging to be written.

Can this really be, is this me,
Sharing my thoughts, Out to the ether,
Hoping for honesty, stupid maybe,
But I keep trying, better than lying.

Friday, 18 February 2011

The Dragon within

Awakened was a powerful beast 
the one I had put on a leash 

far stronger than my dark hound 
more dangerous to be around 

how it woke I do not know 
the words maybe, spoken slow 

its holds the memories of those few 
and from its mouth new sparks flew 

so it roams, ceaselessly around my mind 
but maybe this time, I can leave it behind.


Every day I learn,
I have so much more to see,
it only makes me realise,
how little that I know,

so I must persist,
show determination,
a skill I fear is rusty,
small steps in this direction,

to find it hard is natural,
be not discouraged now,
no worthy cause is ever easy,
so read aloud once more.

I watch him sleep

Alarm cuts air ~ he does not stir ~ light filters in ~ cool morning feel ~ I listen to his breathing.

Am I in his dream / I wonder electric kiss / captive to my heart. 

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Father and daughter

You were the first, you will always be, a massive part of me,

You helped create me, you carried me, gave so much happily,

You rejoiced in my achievements, you helped me through my woes,

Then later you proudly held my arm, on that most special day,

I wish I could be with you now, although likely lost for words,

So you could see how very much, you will always mean to me.

Break on through

And a smile appeared, like a sunbeam breaking through the cloud, we know not where the path leads, only that we walk it.

Heart sighs ~ soul sings ~ mind eases ~ peace ~ but why.

Scared now ~ flying on a different plane ~ sanity holding on by fingernails ~ falling with a smile ~ is this me or fantasy

In the lonely shadow

Night brought pain ~ body drained ~ mind missed sleep ~ day lost ~ morning song stolen.

Curtains drawn ~ sounds receding ~ time bleeding ~ torn between ~ bed and water. 

Sunlight presses fabric ~ pain dulls to ache ~ appreciating little birds ~ twittering ~ helps me along

Robbed of confidence / wilting in the harsh daylight / the petals drop now.

Quiet now ~ slowly coming ~ upwards ~ but to what ~ who knows.

Sensing loss ~ forboding feeling ~ twisted logic ~ cannot ~ close the door.

I feel his breath now / on my neck rancid yet warm / once more my dark hound.

Torn between

Curiously ~ she wonders ~ how it came to this ~suspended between ~ one world and the next.

Fairy Princess

Casting spells ~ granting wishes ~ in a pretty gown ~ and crown ~ easier than this

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Tainted Insanity

Just who the hell do you think you are, to treat me in this way,
who woke up and made you god, of all that you survey,
Did my consideration, give you the wrong impression,
that you could treat me worse, than a discarded possession,

Just where do you get off, with projecting on to me,
I never realised my fate of birth, to you meant second class,
did my crime of saying no, warrant your vindictive spree,
are you so blind, can you not see, just look into the glass,

How on earth do you justify, how badly you behave,
to write off years, to write a letter, you must of felt so brave,
to place the blame on my shoulders, by weaving fiction out of fact,
and expect the world and his mother, to pat you on the back.

(Entered for OneShotWednesday - 02-Mar-11)

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

Keep quiet

To be beyond angry, to be infinitely sad,
to feel such great frustration, to feel like your going mad,

To want till your mind aches, to stand up tall to it all,
to hold back from the bite, to know when its not your call,

To approach with caution and care, to take second place,
to give up something precious, to accept losing face.

Rage against fear flies the nest

With grateful thanks to Matt Hunter, Zouch Media

Judge me not

As I wander ~ between ~ light and dark ~ Once in a while ~ A soul touched by grace passes me by.


Surfing the rainbow / sky reflecting joyful soul / gently on earth now.


Soft creak of leather, all the better,
a scratch of lace, with first embrace,

Quick glimpse of skin, drawing him in,
her perfume warm, his senses storm,

Her is voice low, taking it slow,
she see a light, no time to fight,

Alone in the dark, with pounding heart,
Yearning for more, he turned from the door.

Monday, 14 February 2011

Valentine swan song, she sings

The difference between passionate imagination and insanity, is your actions.

Love is service ~ picking up the pieces ~ mending shattered dreams ~ stepping into the darkside ~ holding hands

Passion is separate ~ wicked and desperate ~ longing to escape ~ the confines ~ of the mind.

Kiss me with your words / caress imagination / my passionate poem.

Let me sing for you ~ free spirit ~ let my song pierce your heart ~ for just a second ~ I am within.

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Sir George and the Dragon

Sir George had heard the story, of a fair damsel in distress.
kept captive by the welsh dragon, up in his rocky nest,

As is the very duty, of brave young knights of old,
he set forth on his journey, to see what was foretold,

Jumping astride his trusty steed, he the crossed rolling hills,
fording through the rivers, his blood felt only thrill,

Finally upon his arrival, at far flung mountain lair,
Leaping down from horse, with sword drawn, he stepped without a care,

For slaying dragons took great might, he knew he might be killed,
but better to be proud martyr, than thought he was not skilled,

Creeping at the entrance, to darkened cave above,
he heard the sound of laughter, a sound unthinkable of,

Within the cave, Elska the brave, gave one last mighty shove,
she stood, straightened her hair, and dusted off her gloves,

Striding out of the cave, she took poor George by fright,
"Fair lady are you unhurt, who saved you from this blight,"

She looked at him a moment, a smile slowly formed,
Oh I see you want to meet HIM, and as comprehension dawned,

Why don't you go, see for yourself, if your game to venture in,
With that she left him standing there, happy with her win,

Never let it be said that chivalry is dead, but it is wise to remember,
This lady can hold her own, and is more than capable to dismember. 

Flying delusions

Wild winds ~ driving rain ~ wondering mind ~ mixing hormones ~ wicked emotions.


In the shadow

Why chase after silver, when you possess gold, in flesh, blood, mind and soul. Love encapsulates all.

On the Outside

Wind sweeping across earth,
caring not for specks like us.

Menacing clouds look on in mirth,
driving rain causing a fuss.

Coldness bites from behind,
stealing away our energy.

Creeping distraction to my mind,
laying the path for lethargy.

Saturday, 12 February 2011

More Gogyohka from my Twitterings

Pastel skies ~ smudged charcoal lines ~ light dwindling ~ silhouettes sharpen ~ twilight beckoning us home

Warm sun glows ~ windows like magnifying glass ~ still I wait ~ in silence ~ radio locked

Rage against Fear

She savaged it to save a smile,
bounced back up from hell,
rising now, star re-born, fired.

Drawing water from the well,
the words are sought, found,
thirst quenched, not drowned.

Destiny mocked, challenged,
he laughed, but she was gone,
carried on the wind of change.

Saturday morning singing with the birds

Gogyohka (the first by accident)

My obsession for progression, driving me, towards reality, standing up to insanity, this voice will be heard

Time running away ~ wish I could stay ~ called by pen ~ ensnared by constraint ~ appointment won't wait