In these times,
a time of nightmares.
And bodies lashed
on all sides.
There is a exception.
A place blue and fair,
of sunflowers and irises,
ever truer than real.
And some will go,
in song and love.
Just like me…..

The street lights
are burnt out.
And the moon looks sick
Too much heart break
in the morning cold.

Yet, deep in autumn,
you alone unfurl
an enchanted land.
Enough to see me through
the night chill.

You told me
to take anything,
a kiss, a promise…
I looked around,
and saw hollow bodies.
And an eggshell,
swallowed by the storm.
So, I took your hand….
Come walk with me,
between the water
and the stones.
And rise above
the sameness.

It was just me
and my dream.
I saw you,
in a sea of love –
our feet on solid ground.
Later, with the
night shivered out –
I saw you again.
Cold, with lonely
grey wings- drifting
like a long sigh.
And then it was over,
firm from failure and loss.
But the sorrow was left,
my love seeking a light.

Stepping out
with my
summer shoes.
She blows a kiss
into a mobile phone,
then again.
The first autumn colours,
and closer to the
island mountains.
How carefully
the poet
chooses words.

Seasons change their minds,
and some spirits are
enfeebled from the outset.
Soothing, I choose the cloud
announcing the last rain.
Was there ever so stupid a thing
as choosing a rain cloud?
But I am someone,
let’s talk again,
like it was all our yesterdays.
And turn some somersaults.

We joked about
moon dancing,
and Astral Weeks,
my island girl and me.
Like a flower in the rain,
we are a scene
chalked in time.
And her eyes,
kept looking at me,
her voice revolving in the sky.
Now lay me down,
and kiss me – more
immense then before.
 

Shoulders sag,
from the weight of
no expectation.
Amid a rush of mad air.

Autumn already
hangs heavy, or is
it guilt, your
nightly ghost?

Under my words,
a pause in the world.
Knowing something,
and going places.

Within the courts of love,
I was left, alone.
An exile, neither
heaven or times known.

Only you came to me,
with the strength of legends.
A bird of flight, lithe
and tawny – to hit my
moods height.

Eager weather,
and a confessional burden.
Each time I look,
I see less.
A wanderlust,
to a place of falling honey –
an end to my vision.
Let it go everywhere,
I say.