Edinburgh - Coulton Hill

This poem was written to commemorate a visit to Scotland many years ago, the journey up from London was long and tiring. Overnight by train and without the benefit of a sleeper birth - I wouldn't want to repeat that journey but the end was worth the discomfort.




Edinburgh - Coulton Hill - 24 Nov 84

In the darkness, morning
Arrival
We climbed the hill
To watch the day begin
Beneath us, in their cars
And buses
The people rush to work
Oblivious

The darkness
Slowly lifts
And we watch the ships
Slip
Slowly

Magenta fire
On the clouds
And Arthur's Seat
Is silhouetted
Against the Dawn




I have been reminded that it actually took me nearly a year to actually put this poem on paper, I find this hard to believe but I will not argue with the wisdom of a Mystic Musician.

Nurturing

I just felt that I wanted to play with words - not that this is in any way unusual - and have returned to a verse form that I used many years ago. I haven't shown any of them in this blog yet but I was preparing lunch and was inspired to produce another acrostic.

For those who do not know what this form is, a brief explanation; a word or phrase is written vertically and each letter forms the initial letter of another word - it would be more easily understood if the example here is examined.

I was inspired in my choice of trigger word by a card selected from a deck of inspirational cards, sadly I cannot recall the name of the deck or the company that made them. If I can find this information I will insert it here.




Nurturing - 30 Jul 09

Now taking me
Under your caring touch
Reaching the places in me
That are usually forgotten,
Unremembered. Inviting me to
Rest and be restored
In your gentle caress, where
Nothing can harm me.
Gentle love.




Happy to find that I can still do this.

I may well show some of my earlier acrostics as well some day.

Between Moon and Sun

I know that this is the wrong time of year to post this poem but this is a 'non-chronologic' blog and can be accessed at any time of the year - so, if you are reading at the appropriate time...Happy Winter Solstice.




Between Moon and Sun - 21 Dec 91

On a warm night
In December
I listen to the sea
Talking to the trees
In my garden.

I listen to the wind
She is singing
She is howling.
She is whispering.
She is telling me
Her secrets.

Full moon;
Though clouds hide her face
I know she is there
Watching

The wind and the moon
And the Darkling Sea
Sing the song of the Solstice
The enchantment of the growing Son

The Son of the Sun
The Oaken King
The one who is all
But without her
Who is naught




The poem was written at exactly the right time of the year and has even more power for me because of it - hope you get as much pleasure from reading as I did when writing.

My garden stands about a mile from the sea and when it has been stormy the constant roar from the waves on the rocks can be clearly heard, add that into the mix your imagination provides and you too can stand in the garden to listen...

Dancing Through the Dark

When contemplating what to post today I allowed myself to be guided and was interrupted in my selection by Twitter asking for attention, all three updates had something to do with Dance.

I tend not to argue with Spirit and the suggestions made, so I shall just get out of the way...




Dancing Through the Dark - 20 Oct 96

In the darkness
We danced.
We touched,
Moving together
Waiting for the dawn.
Venus watched us
In the growing light
Knowing we were one

Our footsteps
Tread the ancient ways
We stir the sands of time
With our dance.

From darkness we were born
To darkness we shall go
Eventually.
And in between...our dance
Shall mark the moments
Count the seconds
Of the darkness
Waiting for the dawn
Waiting for the sun
To kiss our lives

To bless our movements
In the dance.





I don't really have anything further to say, it is fun when Spirit gives gentle - and not so gentle - hints as to the direction to take, sometimes said direction is really unexpected.

Hopefully I will be able to take the direction I choose next time.

Friday Morning

Before I actually post the poem for today, I have to make it clear that I obtained permission from the 'star' of the show. I was initially reluctant to put these - yes, there are a few in the series - poems out here but, after consideration and consultation we felt that these were images that formed who I am and how my style developed.

I present...




Friday Morning - 11 Jun 81

Blinking back the tears
And pretending that it's the rain
Falling in my eyes.
Smiling at you now
Trying not to show the pain
Yet more tired lies.

Funny how depression is catching
Funny how the sadness grows
I was alright till I met you,
But, isn't that how life goes?

I woke up this morning feeling quite good
Though the daylight outside was grey
There was no reason to feel at all unhappy
I thought "Just another day"

Funny...




I can still hear the [unwritten] '70s pop song tune running behind the words, one day I may well write the music to go with some of my poems - but that is for another day.

Life wasn't as bad as it looked, there are only a few poems in this series, to be shown eventually.

Back soon friends...

New Thoughts

Once again I allowed chance to decide what poem should be posted this time and, again, I feel that something going on in me validates the choice. I am not going to argue but, instead, I invite you to read and maybe comment on...




New Thoughts - 01 Jan 03

The memories and half forgotten schemes
Of all the years gone by
Still haunt the hallways of my mind
And arise to taunt my waking thoughts

We might, we may, we ought
All gone...
Some were realised
Some wait to be re-ignited

But new dreams are waiting
They feed off the memories
And give rise to fresh ideas
Fresh, new thoughts

But occasionally
An old imprint is brought to life
To walk again like an aged ghost
Of a life I used to inhabit

And sadness tinges the happiness
I feel, as I recall the times I have experienced
And wonder if I will ever feel
The same way again

Old, new, where am I going?
Deep within, I know
But still I wonder
If




I have lived through so many different realities that I have difficulty in separating them - maybe that is what these poems are about, hope you enjoy looking at the fragments.

Thank you for reading...

Watching Waiting & Remembering

I wanted to post something today that triggered a very pleasant memory for me, without any further explanation, for the moment, I offer...




Watching Waiting & Remembering - 24 Apr 06

In those long slow
Winter afternoons
That blend seamlessly
Into night
I sit by my window
And wish for you
To be here
With me

Do you remember?
Remember those days
When we shared the
Summer wine
And played those
Little, meaningless,
Meaningful games
In the way
I do?





The only explanation I will offer here is that Sarah McLachlan - singer/songwriter from Canada - was singing "Angel" while I was writing this poem and it may be that some of her rubbed off on me.

No, I will not rephrase that [grinning the whole time I write this closing paragraph]

Comments, if you please...hope you enjoyed reading.

Raindrops on the Window

Yes, I know, Sennen Cove again - or rather, Carn Keys. It is a special place and it holds many happy memories for me.

No matter the weather...




Raindrops on the Window - 24 Sep 84

Raindrops on the window
In the darkness of the night
Spread the lights from the cove
Into a fairytale
Christmas tree.

Wind round the windowpane
Chills the air
And the sound of the rain
On the roof and walls
Like a thousand tiny heartbeats





Only a short posting this time but the subject is one very dear to me and I will never forget all the times spent there.

Till next time - take care

Love, Ainsley

Colours II

As promised, this is the second poem in the Colours sequence. It completes a cycle in the structure - if two poems can be considered to be a cycle - returning to a point close to where the whole thing started.

You can see that for yourself, so why don't I just let you read it...



Colours II - 21 Oct 00

Gold
In a new dawn
Burning

Sunlight
Warming, coaxing the flowers
Bloom

Thoughts
Of a new day, a new life
Opening


Now, dancing through my mind
And my heart, the wishes
Of a new-born day
Gathering in truth
Alive
And welcoming
The reality


Green
The growing, unfolding life
Blossoming


As gradually the daylight fades
And the sky darkens
Starlight sings to serenade
The passing day
A slow drift into the fading light
Dreaming in the
Afterglow





We never, ever, return to the same place we started - remember that it is an on-going journey.

Enjoy your travels.

Colours I

This is the first of two linked poems, connected by the 'Colours' theme. I shall not try to explain, just simply say - please read and explore...



Colours I - 21 Oct 00

Silver
Across my thoughts
Cascading

Moonlight
Drifts, in mist enwreathed
Swirling

Dream
Cocooning my cares and troubles
Protecting


Away from the flow
In a Might-have-been
Across the Maybe-if
A fantasy
Enshrouded in the If-onlys
I dream on


Blue
The midnight colour enfolding
Dream


A change of hue
Denotes a change of hour
Late night church bells,
Cascade, chase and play the fool,
Chasing into the early night
Dancing in the pre-dawn's
Early glow




As always, I invite comments - if you want to say something about any of my poems.

The next posting will be 'Colours II'...

On the Journey

I really must remember to make notes to myself so that I can recall what inspired a poem into creation, at the very least it would enable me to make some properly valid comment when posting them here. Otherwise you will just have to continue to put up with this general space-filling chatter.

[Thankful that you can't see me grinning]

I cannot recall what caused this poem to be birthed but it seems appropriate now, several events in my life are suddenly important and this poem was chosen totally at random. These things seem to mesh together in a way that tells me that Soul is giving me a nudge - again.




On the Journey 26 Oct 02

I have been watching
You move
In your dreamtime

I have been listening to
You talk
To your spirits


In those dreams
And those conversations
We have communed
More deeply
Than we ever did
Before


In my dreams
In my speech
I have learned my truth


And I open up my mind
And my eyes
I open up my ears,
And my soul
Can see
Where I'm going






This may have triggered something in the way you view things and think too, comments are invited - if you feel like giving some feedback.

Until my next offering - take care - Love to you.

Elements

This poem was inspired by explorations into Wicca and what it could offer. What I discovered, is not really relevant to this poem but some of the images are too strong to ignore. Here they are, entangled with a flavour of the Tarot as well but these things are not necessary for the reader to know - just let the feel of the images wash over you.



Elements 13 Jan 96

The circle drawn
Upon the dusty wooden floor
Polished by the feet
Of ages past

Chalk lines
Evoking, invoking
Charming, controlling
Lit by the candles
Five-fold flicker

Air
Incense intangible
Wreathe writhe
Around about
Paints the air
With perfumed smoke

Fire
Candle burning
Illuminating
Enlightening the dark
Lighting the way

Water
Cauldron and chalice
Drink the life blood
Taste the life
Drink deep

Earth
Stone dark
Pentacle
To touch and rest
The weary pilgrim feet
A fool's quest
Starts with but a single step

Spirit
You and I
We see and
Touch and
Taste
We travel on
Our footsteps synchronous
The dance of life
In the circle dance




There is a little hint of Joni Mitchell here too in the reference to 'The Circle Dance', I hope she doesn't mind that I borrowed it for this poem.

More things to come...soon.

Before I Get There & Mist

Just two short poems this time, they are thematically linked and were written on consecutive days but refer to the same journey from London to my beloved Cornwall. The first is a set of three Senryū, you may have noticed - it is one of my favourite verse forms.



Before I Get There 05 Sep 85

From London, a road
Serpentine, westward leading
Taking me homeward

City walls fading
In the east. Granite hedges
Are beckoning me

Sunrise behind me.
I watch the shadows shorten
And leave the ocean



Mist 06 Sep 85

Gradually
Time sliding into an afternoon
Of peace
The haze of autumn
Stretched and torn
By hills and trees
Left, lying abandoned
In the hollows



Back again before too long

Illusions

I had hoped that I would have something totally new to put up today but it wasn't to be. Instead I delve back into my past, again, to offer you this poem - showing you, once again, where I seem to be for most of my life, in the...



Illusions 27 Oct 96

Under the light
Of a new full moon
Wishing that things were different

Knowing that
Even in the cold daylight
Of an autumn day
Things are never what they seem

Night is day
And day...
Who can really tell

Illusions sing and dance
And play the fool
Dare to pull the beard of the goat

That which we wish
May hap. Has hap!
Is already happening
Though not necessarily in the way
We wish

We wish




It is not such a bad place to be, provided that you have full awareness of the illusion and can play it for what it is and can slide from one to the other without causing ripples in everyone else's illusions of reality.

On that note...back again soon.

Fires

After yesterdays creation my brain required a little rest, so I take a journey back into my history to present this short poem. It was written to convey a hope for the future when darkness is all around.

I offer...



Fires 26 Feb 03

When the fires of autumn
Have all grown cold
And burned to ash
I will be there

Through the cold nights
Of winter I will be waiting
And watching the glow
Dance around the embers

And then, when the sun
Touches the trees in spring
Igniting the blossom
I will fan the spark

And watch the fire grow

Image by dragon762w via Flickr

That's it for now, back again sometime soon...

Both Sides - All Sides

This is another example of the type of poem I write fairly often, one that explores several views of something.

The first two parts 'came through' almost complete as usual and it was only when I had nearly finished writing it out that I realised that there was a third section to come, I allowed the flow and this is what appeared...



Both Sides - All Sides 14 Jul 09


Me

I dreamed in the night
It was a distant place
I think
Was it past, was it future
Or was it even now?
I cannot even try
To guess

But she was there...
Watching me
As she has done
So many times
Very many times
Before

I waved
But although
I knew she saw me
All she did
Was let her gentle smile
Wash over me


Thee

She dreamed in the night
It was a distant place
I knew
Not the past or future but
In the eternal now
We had built
For ourselves

Now I am here
Watching you
As I have always done
Every time
You came here
Before

You waved
And I saw you
But I knew that
It would not be right
I smiled so you would know
That I saw you


We

We dreamed in the night
It was no place that we
Could ever know
Without past or future
It was no-when
The only place
We could be

We were there
Just watching
As we have always done
In that eternal place
We have always
Before

We didn't wave
Our hands were too busy
Holding each other
Embracing
Our smiles
Intermingled



There are everal points of inspiration for this poem but if I were to tell of them the magic would be removed - and that would never do.

Comments, as ever, are invited...back again soon with the next offering.

See the Winter Dance

I know that this is not the right time of year for this poem to be shown but it felt really good when I re-read it for the first time in several years. In any case, someone may come across this blog at some point in the future and it may well be winter.

Often when I am going through my old poems, or whatever, I look at them and actually question who I was when I wrote them. Guess I will never really know the answer to that question and the exploration of this whole area will be the subject of...what? Another blog perhaps, I shall have to water this seed and see what sprouts.



See the Winter Dance 22 Feb 97

See the winter dance
Across the fields
Through the trees
Among the scarecrows
Whose failed works
Allow the feathered fiends
To plunder the barren fields

See the winter dance
Watch her paint her
Frosted colours
Paling honours
In the fading sunlight
Shadows stretched between
The night and the day

See the winter dance
Between the lifeless trees
Upon the sleeping land
Over the frozen lake
Scattering, from her hands
The leaves, the snowflakes
The drifts that hold your dreams

See the winter dance
Dreaming, she holds
The summer in her hands.
Wishing for the days
When the warmth of his love
Touches her soul

See the winter dance
As she kisses the spring
Leading him in the dance
That leads to the new life
And to her death
Willing release
Though knowing that
She will return
Return --- so

See the winter dance




Till next time...in a different season...or maybe a different world.

Winter

I had a conversation last night about Japanese poetry and the syllabic forms they are constructed with, most of the poems I have written, in the Japanese style, are in the Senryū mode even though I used to call them Haikū - the content wasn't spiritual so the Senryū name should really apply.

The syllabic form of these two types of poem is in the form of three lines comprising 5:7:5 syllables and is fairly well known and quite popular everywhere.

I did write one poem in another style, the one here, said style being Tanka, the construction is 5:7:5:7:7 syllables. I have to admit that I really prefer the Senryū form - like the ink images where just a few strokes make the image, a few lines of writing can make a really vivid image.

I wish to apologise for this waffling but felt that it was necessary to explain a bit of the background to the poem, sorry if you already knew this; I now present my only ever Tanka poem...



Winter 14 Jun 75

Winter passed, as though
A flock of heron - winging
Southward, shed feathers
White. I dreamt of frozen lakes
And streams but found not one.



Only the one poem today because I have been waffling too much, said he grinning.

July Senryū

I was asked recently, how is it that I went to bed so late - and why? I think that the answer to both parts of the question is that I am encouraged to do this by one of my spirit guides. Owl assists access to wisdom and vision and, rather surprisingly - play. I do a lot of my most productive things in the very early hours of the day and this is often when I am shown the little things that grow into poems, stories and whatever else.

This is just one example of this assistance...



July Senryū 12 Jul 09

I

Tasting the night air
Watching clouds skip across stars,
Jewels in the sky


II

Feeling dawn approach
Look eastward, sun rising - he
Tints clouds, magenta

Image via Wikipedia

I realise that talk of spirit guides and spirit animals and the like may well alienate some of my readers but I just have to 'say it as I feel it' and if this offends your sensibilities, I am sorry.

To those of you still with me...be with you again next time and in the meantime, watch the sunrise and smile.

Metronome

The poem I had intended to post still isn't cooked yet, I fear that it may be rather too stringy and may never reach the light of day.

The poem I offer instead was written yesterday afternoon and the content is still valid today, unfortunately. Well the variety is special and should be welcomed.



Metronome 10 Jul 09

Tap tap tap
On the conservatory roof
A leaky gutter
Fed by the drizzle
From the low-flying cloud.
The tops of the hills
Have been stolen

Fifty-one beats a minute
Tap too slow for a heart
Tap too fast for a stroll
Tap in the park
Tap too wet
Tap to try



Maybe it will dry out soon - please?

Image via Wikipedia

Night After Night

I had intended to post a new poem but it isn't cooked yet, still needs some time for the flavours to meld.

This is another of the 'love song' type of poem that I am sometimes pouring out into the world.

Often I find that I am uncertain as to whether I am getting the right feel so I just offer it for your reading pleasure. If you think that I am not getting it right please tell me.



Night After Night 18 Aug 02

Night after night
You're with me
In my dreams
Day upon day
In all the times
We've shared
You are with me
In my thoughts

On and on
We sing the song
Of life
And lives
Together
Our harmony
And counterpoint
Weave and highlight

And on those
Secret paths
Where we once walked
Fingers entwined
Hearts and minds
Enmeshed and bound
By sacred vows
We chose to make

Our footsteps
Still lead us
Forward, and like the Fool
We take our step
Into infinity
Eternity
Growing together
We go




Hope you enjoyed this - back again soon...

MuseSongs

Changing the mood again today to something a bit lighter, just for the fun of it. I have a few things I intend to post here, some of which may prove to be rather unexpected - you will understand when they arrive. In the meantime I offer...



MuseSongs 24 Sep 2000

Poems dance from my mind
To the beat of a merry drum
Cavort and play
Dance your merry lives away

Fully formed,
The Muse hands to me,
A song, a poem
To whisper, sing
To encourage you to dance
And clap and sing
And wake your Muse

Come sing with me
Our words will make a magic,
A spell to wipe the tears
From the corners of your eyes
To cause a smile to break your frown

So
Raise a smile
Raise a song
Sing the sun through the clouds
Chant the rainbow into the sky
And let us be the ones to say
We've had a beautiful day.




Not too cloying, is it?

Remember Me

Looking around for something to add here I came across this poem and felt that it would be appropriate, for various reasons, for it to put it up here today. I have to admit that it would not be appropriate to publish the reasons but the poem is safe enough.



Remember Me 26 Aug 97

Remember me
Remember all those days
When we
Were together, where we,
Together, did all the happy things
That I remember
And enjoyed

Remember me
Remember the touch
The gentle caress
The gentle touch

Remember me
Remember the dreams we shared
The songs we sang
The dreams we shared

Remember me
Remember the ways
In which we touched
In which we played

Remember me
Remember the good times,
Ignore the bad times,
We both enjoyed

Remember me
Remember me

Remember me.




Memories of things past, often flood back without warning.

Directions

After yesterday's little diversion, back to the poems for a bit with this. It has a strange feel to it and I will just allow you to make up your own mind about this.

As you can see, some poems take an age to come forth from the recesses of the mind to be placed on the page. This was one of them...




Directions 15 Sep 96, 22 Sep 97, 02 May 03

In
And out
and round about
Talk
And sing
And scream and shout

Where are you going?
Where have you come from?

In:
The dark times
When you don't think
The fun times
Loaded with drugs and drink

Out:
The light times
When thought was all
But talking to you
Was like talking to a wall

Round about:
Those in-between times
When you and I came
To the point when we
Realised we were really the same

Where am I going?
Where am I coming from?

In:
I cannot see
Closed windows, closed doors
Drawn curtains reinforcing
The shadows across the floors

Out:
Sight begins to grow
Light spreads across my mind
Footsteps across the land
Goddess knows what I shall find

Round about:
I never knew
I still don't know
The path I need to take
The way I really ought to go

Where are we going?
Where have we all come from?

In:
The light blinds our eyes
In searing, coruscating,
Rainbow intense, searchlight
Torn from the sun

Out:
All eyes open
Eyelids protesting
The unexpected vistas
Shake our understanding

Round about:
The path now illumined
Marked with fire and with crystal
One foot before another
We walk into the future





This quote seems to be really appropriate to this poem...

"Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures." Henry Ward Beecher

...I wonder how much of me I am painting here.

O Me Misererum

Reliance on electricity

Before I really get going I should note here that this being written on one of those white rectangles of white stuff called "paper" I believe - and using a pen. I thought that a pen was something you stuck in a USB port to enable transfer of documents - or whatever. This one has "ink" in it, that flows onto the "paper" and leaves a trail.

Getting back to the point here...you don't realise how reliant you are on electricity till it is not available. There is a scheduled power-outage [for safety reasons], the trees in the area that are interfering with the power lines are being pruned and so the electricity is off from 10:00 till 15:00. Can hear the chainsaws nearby as the work is being done.

You really do not know how reliant you are on the stuff till you have to do without. As you probably know, my wake/sleep cycle is shifted round in the day - I get to bed around 03:30 [give or take anything up to an hour] and wake around 10:30 so the power was already off when I emerged.

First sign that things were different was, not being able to shave, I don't use a wet razor - haven't done since I was a kid and I am not certain my skin can take it now.

The inside of the 'fridge stayed dark.

Coffee could have been a problem but Lovely Wife was wonderful and had prepared a large vacuum flask with hot water. So I am able to slurp the caffeine solution while writing this.

I had intended to use the laptop for my usual things but there are two main obstacles to this. The battery life is stunningly poor, I can get maybe 30 minutes of work before getting a "low battery warning, change battery or connect to the mains in order to continue working" message. The second obstacle is that, even if battery life wasn't an issue, the broadband router is mains powered so I couldn't communicate via e-mail, Twitter, Facebook...

I suppose I could use semaphore...but it doesn't have the range.

*puts pen down, looks at clock, sighs, twiddles thumbs*

The sound of chainsaws is really irritating...

Not that anyone I know, knows semaphore - including me.

The power came back on a half-hour late, I then had to go around resetting various timers to make sure that everything would work as it should.



[Something a little different today - hope you find it interesting and entertaining. If not, we apologise - normal service will be resumed shortly...in the meantime please chat amongst yourselves.]

The Ancient Songs

I always feel, when I write a poem - or whatever - that I will always remember what it was that triggered the creation of the piece and so I never leave any notes for myself at the time.

False hope!

So this means that I really do not have any real idea where this poem came from but, no matter, I still present it for your reading pleasure.



The Ancient Songs 17 Nov 96

Singing the ancient songs
Ensnaring
Casting the web.
Binding my heart

Holding my heart
Keeping my love
My memories
Those things we shared
Those days we had together
Held forever

Crystal mornings
Crimson sunsets
Silver sea, orange sun,
Sitting, watching, embracing, loving,
Together in the fading light.





There is certainly a link here with Sennen Cove but that happens so frequently that I feel there is no need to mention it.

I hope you enjoyed the offering today.

Love

Between Worlds

During my night, I slept deeply but woke feeling that I had only just gone to bed. I was certain that I experienced something but didn't know exactly what it was.

This poem describes the feelings that came through as I moved through my early day and allowed the memories to surface.



Between Worlds 04 Jul 09

The mysterious times
The interval between breaths
Fragments of time
When eyes are shut
In a blink

The times when
You are aware
Of the overlapping spaces
Where the mystical
And the normal
Touch

Dragons slumber, dream
Of times when mortals
Never feared them
Knowing that time
Will come again

Unicorns
Empowering
Touch your heart
With love

You remember
You have played there
Now see
With open eyes

They await...



This is a rather special poem, special for me and - I hope - for you too.

Enjoy your day, love from me and the rest of our creation.

I Am...

This poem is a kind of reminder to myself as well as to the other people in my life - the message is for all.

Only just realised that this poem is nearly 24 years old, can it really be that long since it was written?



I Am... 19 Jul 85

I am the Jester
Into your life I try to bring
A little laughter
To wash away the tears

I am the Piper
Music is my gift to you
To help you sing
The songs
Which tell the hopes
That make the living better

I am the Wordsmith
A play, a song, a poem
All these things
I give to you
To make your world
A little sweeter



I hope this poem has made your life a little sweeter today.

Love you all...

Awake

As is quite often the case with these posts, I selected this totally at random. The amazing thing is that it has relevance to me at the moment in something I am going through; I will not discuss it further here, it is not the time or the place, but instead just offer the poem for your reading pleasure.



Awake 05 Jan 93

Across the sand
Beneath the waves
A thousand feet
In unique rhythms
Journey
To find the stones
In circle round
Or standing proud
In lonely majesty.
And
When found
To dance
The eternal
Dance

Awake
The sleeping Dragon
From slumbers deep and ancient
Awake
Your mind, free your thoughts
From paths so well trod
That the meaning has for so long faded




Just one short poem today, let me know what you feel...

More from 1985

I take pleasure in adding these poems from the year 1985 to this blog, the first one is yet another Senryū - written at the end of a surprisingly warm spring day after a walk to Eltham Common, in South East London only a few miles from where I used to live, the Common was the subject of several walks.

The title is fairly mundane but the feel is rather special.



Eltham Common 02 Feb 85

When the butterfly
Landed on my hand, we smiled
A magic moment



The second poem comes from a little later in the year and explores some of my key issues, make of it what you will...



Babylon 28 Apr 85

O Babylon
Once upon a time
Your waters washed me.
We parted
Though I don't know how
Or why.
My memories
Of your warm waters
Sing constantly
Through my mind.
Maybe one day
I will return
Though I know not when
But one day
We will dance
Together
Again



I considered adding an image but decided against it; you can see the butterfly, you have been to Babylon - even if it was not in this life so how can pictures help?

Till next time - love to you.