Thursday 18 June 2009

The early years


This posting comes from a point near the beginning of my adult writings, the period when I actually started to collect and collate my works. This concept sounds rather grandiose but all it really means is that I started to type them up - two fingered at first but gradually more fingers started to join the game.

Although the writing style is different in these poems to the current ones, some of the themes are still evident, like this...


The Seeds of Time 09 Jul 96

Through parted fingers slowly slip
The purple petals of time's flower
Her seeds already scattered far
Beyond the grasp of man.
Fleeting through the boundless canopy
The stars faintly show their path
As parasols driven by the coursing wind
They tumble endlessly toward their goal
Then falling through the midnight sky
Of some forgotten Earth, they grow
And start the ancient mosaic again

Life upon the desert sand does grow
A parody of the floating forms within the sea
Wind, sea and sand caress the seed
And soon the purple painted fields
Breathe in the sun, bask in the light.
Time enough to grow and sleep to rest to play.
Then frantic flowers fertilised, they fruit.
Wind takes the seeds up to the dark
Where journeys end; begin
And deep within the eternal night, adrift they fly
The seeds of time, once scattered, never end
Their flight between the worlds of fate



Summer Passing 26 Jul 76

Time pass. The summer days slip
In orchestrated simple melodies
Cascading floral emblematic themes
Symphonic echoes of a distant place.
Now southward fly the geese.
In arrow formation, melancholy cry,
Away from the louring grey, fly.
Mourning has come again, enshrouding snow.



And from a bit later in the year, with a similar internal theme I offer...



Autumn Fugue 03 Sep 76

Autumn draws the shadows across the land
As the sun dips further to the south,
The geese are moving on, and,
Soon the painted leaves will fall.

Evenings draw close about my mind,
Clothe my thoughts in sombre brown
To match the darkening day, and
Rippling flame, like fingers, plays within the grate.

Night falls and the stars shine out in undimmed majesty
Frost falls and the walls are rimed with white;
Morning comes and the leaves are gone
In whispering streams along the road.


How soon the summer passed;
How short the autumn.
Winter's dragon breath clouds the sky
And fills the day with grey.




That's all for now, I'll be back soon with more to delight you. Peace my friends.

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