Wasn’t I ?

On my dirty, ripped knees again;

Planting new problems

On top of those I made last year,

Always hoping for a richer harvest.

Tomorrow’s sweet children

Glide across sugared skies Continue reading

Looking To Settle

Along the Fawn-Run Brook

Mist peels off

The autumn hedgerows

Where flies September-sensation

Sunup butterflies; swing-tottering on

Tattered flag parasail wings,

Continue reading

In The Small

dragonfly

With savage shell-bone pride

Members of the dragonfly tribe

Carry a beautiful storm miracle

Below their flexible armour cages;

And aerobat on flicker-shine wings

That flatten the earths corners,

Bend the skies straightways up,

Fasten the sun in time and place.

Recognise the magic, please,

In the small hum-drum things;

Catch some contentment from the

Small, pleasant pulses of joy.

 

 

Photo: courtesy of www.bendigocc.blogspot.com

30/8/2013

Buds of Wings

Before the Devil finds out

She is missing –

She can be free, be here;

Looking for a song to wear:

Hair like a mithril waterfall

Under a full snow moon.

There’s hard ground to be broken,

Cold season to battle,

Seeds to be drilled.

The strongest will floursih,

She promises, in

The spaces between rocks …

And if our love be real enough

Strong, limit-beating  wings will grow,

Where now there be only buds.

If the liberty bell blues and our chorus

Soar with heart, compassion and courage

She will be free, free  from the Satan-burn chains –

At least until the song – and

Our memory of it – fades.

1/3/2013