gentle as a breeze, she is
after summer rain
i watch her blossoms fall
warm and tender then, she is
hot as summer days
when heat consumes the grass
encircled by my heart, she is
and when she isn’t here
I stir in bed all night
blossoms fall
heat consumes
ah! my beating heart
when people talk of desire
they speak of fire and heat
but a fire can be extinguished,
in itself it’s not complete
desire is the beginning
the waking of stronger powers
that sweeps you off your feet
and put a stop to time
only when you are mine
that power comes with a passion
far beyond ourselves
it pushes, it tears, it’s agony,
it’s joy, it’s free, it’s sweet,
it’s the urgent demand of life
when the wind comes down from heaven
and whirls true lovers up,
groaning and gasping,
flying,
upward,
through the longing stars,
they cling with desperation
there’s another dimension
to the grip of their grasping arms
until they fall together,
soft to their tumbled bed
you touch my beating heart
we can talk
or fall asleep
we know we are one whole part
i feel such tenderness
it’s then i can stroke your lovely skin
and cradle your gentle head
excite me, ignite me,
never needs to be said
the fire of desire will return
we’ll go to heaven again
by a slower, gentler path
It’s too sunny,
not funny,
I’ve spent all my money
on fans
and cool drinks in cans.
We’ll all overdose on vitamin D.
This weather may please you
but it really doesn’t suit me.
Set me free of this humid horror
And bring back the rain fall t’morrer.
I’d climb in the freezer
to make my life easier,
I’m really a winter time geezer.
Away with the heatwave,
Come thunder, come storm,
drop the temperature back
to averagely warm
or deliciously cold
out of season
before I take leave of all reason.
I’m addicted to ice.
This horrible heat isn’t nice.
It’s too hot!!
this weather is not
what the average Briton is used to.
the grass my father cut that day
was parched and scorched
by burning sun
his ashes rest
beneath the roses now
the rain pours down
and bounces on the lawn
bending down the peony heads
and flattening the fern
the grass has grown again
will he?
the disused viaduct spanned the valley
a leap of arches, stone piled up on stone,
where old channelled streams, cut into cold clay,
flowed away from the hazed heat of the day
i followed to the ancient, cool damp wood,
no longer frequented, my secret place
i was lost in thoughts and wandering daydreams
wrapped in deep silence, woven with bird-song
surrounded by scents, the creaking of trees
the soft bubbling sounds of the nearby streams
a rustle of leaves on a sudden breeze
that hushed and sighed with the fall of the wind
leaving deep shade for dazzling sunlight
i entered the clearing, briefly stood, blind
as my sight cleared, he was suddenly there
he in the east, i in the west, both transfixed
suspended in time, an unbroken gaze,
we stood in communion across space
the race of my heart the only sound
i slowly knelt to the ground without thought
he stood in a sunbeams magical glow
a fox, the like of which i never saw,
tall, strong, gleaming in deep red coat, he shone
the King of the woodland for evermore
kneeling before him quietly, i smiled,
making my respect and intention clear
our eyes held, i his bondsman and loyal kin,
in a place that stretched through air, almost near
a moment of true beauty kept me there
when, turning quickly, he vanished away
leaving me, standing in awe and pure joy
a vision of gold, held still in my heart
The Dreaming Path 