she slept with the dog when it was sick
providing warmth and constant care
she rescues birds and creatures lost
is kind in every thought and deed
cherished her mother to the end
gives and doesn’t count the cost
if heavens reward on earth was given
and all the world was fair and just
she’d be blessed and crowned in glory
a special rose would bear her name
but such grace is always silent
and books will never tell her tale
the rooks nest in the Linden
a long established colony
the trees stand out, bare of leaves
flat grey clouds and stillness
nothing enters this empty street
it’s a quiet Sunday
the bins await the refuse men
collection Monday
beside the houses whitewashed bricks
weeping willow, drooping, static
May is slowly budding
daffodils split the earth in triumph
the garden now is overgrown
a lone child kicks a stone
the empty table and six chairs
of weathered wood awaiting summer
i open wide this window
to listen for a sound
i hear a bird call, the creak of wings
as two wild geese circle to the river
no other sounds reach my ear
nothing moves in gentle air
there is nothing more to hear
this quiet Sunday
The Driftwood page has been updated with poems and links
Petal
Opens
Emerging
Magical
Perfumes
Only?
Eternal
Moments?
Perfect
One
Entwines
Mortality
Petal perfumes are perfect.
Opens only one.
Emerging eternal, entwines
Magical moments of mortality
nice – and true :)
let’s play that old trick
i smile at you, pass it on
it will come back round
stepping from an office
(for that ‘illegal’ cigarette)
in my shelter by the bank,
i saw a stranger, singing in the rain
followed by another man
gold from head to foot
i may never see their like again
i saw a crowd of people
follow them, all in funny hats
smiling and laughing
the bells rang on their ankles
the bells rang in the steeple
and the traffic had to slow
where they were going
i may never know
they must be tourists
in this magnolia painted town
where no one ever smiles
i remember summers
and places long ago
when we all did this,
a part of daily life,
and children danced with us
lit by torches, late into the night
life was a festival
before we all forgot to smile
is this a revolution?
where do i sign up?
goodnight to you now
sleep softly in moonlight
with warmth wrapped around
when morning dew falls
may the song of the robin
bring joy to your day
1.
here in a bubble of moonlight
no strong winds can blow me
i sit and watch the world go by
floating, bound, unfeeling
what is this spell that holds me
enclosed and isolated
surrounded by air and light
contained in silence
i try to reach out, the bubble stretches.
untouched yet never quite defeated
i look out, no-one comes near
i long to feel earth beneath my feet
this curse is but a fleeting moment
in the time of the waning i am winnowed
all things pass and change and pass
the moon will wax again at last
2,
paths keep crossing for their own reasons
the twirl of the world, the switch of the season
cycles coming, growing, going
we turn to each other familiar faces
lit by moonlight, hidden by shadows
the stranger you meet who holds up a light
comes in the dusk and leaves in the night
3.
the moment the moon begins to wane
all the old predators come back again
snarling and circling and snapping their jaws
prowling around me, sniffing the air
they smell my defeat before its begun
should i offer my throat and be done
is there final release in their teeth
no sanctuary, no solace, no welcoming peace
so far from the fire, the torch and the hearth
so many riddles i cant answer
all my answers misunderstood
no star to guide me, lost in the wood
bound to a tree, yet i break free
when the darkest hour strikes
i refuse the final sacrifice
there is music, sunlight, life
i sink down to rise again
Dance widdershins
To enter the land of Faerie.
Every turn on the journey,
From the Oak to the hearth,
Is widdershins
If your milk turns sour
Don’t be so sure that the date has expired
Make restoration with sweet gifts at you door
Never undervalue the unseen
Turn all the angles, dance widdershins
The gate may be by your own front door
And the path that turns and twines in the wood
Follow the soft breeze at dusk
And the owls hoot
Faced with a choice, turn widdershins
That sound at your window at night
Isnt a twig, tap tap tapping
It’s a small finger and a flutter of wings
Don’t be deluded
Turn in your bed, widdershins
The Dreaming Path 