Thursday, December 20, 2018


She looked at the ground,
saw the seeds of heartache,
but thought they never would grow
so she turned away and proceeded to be
content with her own belief.

For many a year that carried her through
the trials of everyday life
but behind the scenes those seeds took root
and grew till they covered her whole landscape.

Yet still she believed she could walk through
unscathed to the green, green, grass
and so she tried one step at a time
until finally, finally, she gave up.

It took a long time for her to know
the full import of real heartache
but it hit with a force to slay the brave
and she stumbled and tripped right into it.

Like all gypsy’s do she arose and ran
to the safety of her own wagon
but, lo and behold, that heartache had stuck
and travelled right down to her core.

She cried for a time and bemoaned her fate
but she isn’t a gypsy for nothing
so she tried again in the sincere hope
that wagon wheels would trample the lot.

But do you know that to this day
no one has heard from or seen
that gypsy who thought to beat heartache
at it’s very own game?

I guess she must have simply died
trying and trying and trying again!

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Not a statue

She’s not a statue, no, she’s not
but just a woman in repose
contemplating life and love
and what the future holds.

It’s been a lifetime, more or less,
yet still there’s no results to show
except to say life veers and dips
and love simply comes and goes.

And so she moves; at last she does,
but muscles that once firm and strong
and thought to enter life full pace
now weak and slow and uninspired.

It’s hard to drag the unexplained
and all that can’t be understood
along the path she knows to take
unless the mind is jettisoned.

And so the mind takes to flight
and discovers in the atmosphere
all that’s missing in the world
and what will never be.

It could be true to say she’s now
a mindless woman just like me
walking, talking, laughing some,
and acting like the mind’s intact.

But she’s okay; you know she is,
because her heart still as made
guides and leads and navigates
through all of life’s pitfalls.

As for love, well, yes, it’s there
because when unconfined by mind
it blooms and grows like roses do
and beautifies the world!

Thursday, November 15, 2018

No wind

There’s no wind today but evil still blows
over the land like a tidal wave
and it lifts and scatters the foundations of life
to make humans behave in the strangest of ways.

Soon what is strange will turn into norms
practiced with vigour day in and day out
and perceived freedom will turn into chains
to secure one and all to instability.

There’ll be no place to land and believe
love prevails and kindness exists
and the caring that once enabled true growth
will simply be incomprehensible.

But we’re not there yet, not yet, not yet,
and so of the wind let it blow gratitude
and belief in the power to be like a tree
with roots sunk deep in goodness and grace.

Goodness and grace?  Can it be, can it be?
Oh, can it, can it, ever ere be?

Friday, November 2, 2018

Twisted world

It’s a twisted world that cannot be
straightened out by humankind
because the twist made firm and strong
simply cannot be undone
by the good and true.

They stress and strain, pull and tug,
and sweet talk till exhausted
but the twist simply smiles
and lives another day.

The twist elusive snakes its way
in no particular order
across the countries of the world
relentless in its quest.

Oh, yes, it ties us up in knots
and, yes, we turn this way/that
in attempts to be as once was made
but really it’s to no avail.

There is a secret, yes, there is
to resisting and indeed preventing
that twist from gaining ground
but I can’t tell you what to do.

If I could I’d simply say … pray.

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

Top of the mountain

She reached the top of the mountain
battered and bruised and somewhat confused
but she breathed the air of one quite relieved
to be where no man had ere been before.

She knew for a fact because pristine and clean
un-ravaged by greed and man’s mortal needs
and nowhere a sign of destructive measures
designed to lay waste to the pure innocent.

So she stayed for a time to pluck from the air
the strength to return to where she came from
and thought to pretend for a life time or more
still too weak to tackle the down.

But the down is the making of character
and the moulding of all she needs to be
to release the strength to face the unknown
and to finally know she did it, she did.

So she loaded her wagon with all that she was
and made her way down steep inclines
careful to not dislodge her resolve
to conquer the pitfalls of life.

And she sang the song all gypsies do
day and night all the way down
till back in the midst of humanity
she became the queen of all that she knows.

Thursday, October 11, 2018


Not a stone, boulder, rock,
but just a woman somewhat lost
in this world of love’s abandonment
perceived as paradise
by those with low ability
to see and feel the truth.

So confident they say to do
the opposite of love’s dictates
to not abandon or let go
what love has joined together.

“Turn around, turn around
and place that love inwards
to satisfy your own desires
and carefree join the pack.”

Some merit there but how to turn
when love walks straight and sure
and so she’s lost and yet she’s not
because she knows, has always known,
one cannot now or ever
unsubscribe from love!

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

The first

It slides and slithers, oh, just so,
before it disappears from feel
to leave a great and growing need
to once again be joined.

Not long until again it’s back
to quench the need and satisfy
and as the sun rises up
the day is greeted happily.

And in the pause before the next
it works its magic deep within
warming, holding, comforting,
and awakening the senses.

But for all that follow in its wake
none so special as the first
and how can humankind survive
without that first one of its kind?

Yes, it is, you guessed I’m sure.
It’s that hot and steaming freshly brewed
morning cup of coffee!

Friday, August 3, 2018

Village of Humanity

In a village of humanity where the children all grow old
double-sided rainbows weren’t expected every day
but suddenly in awe the inhabitants looked up
and radiated energy pulled the sky down to ground.

Blanketed in blue and shades of other hues
the energy confined boiled over into crime
and the mothers, fathers, children, as one became unglued
from a value system and the merit of kinship.

Up and out they struggled one by one alone to find
the earth no longer stable had become a rolling ball
from which they fell and tumbled into a foreign mode.

In adjusting to the temperature and the intensity of change
love became as water free flowing down a drain
and collected in deep pools beneath the earth’s crust.

There it bubbled, boiled, and today it bubbles, boils,
denied full release into the atmosphere
but through the hues of sky and me it erupts occasionally
and sends boulders, pebbles, rocks, flying everywhere.

Catch them … but they can’t
for love and foreign modes
are and will remain

Thursday, July 12, 2018


Clouds creep up from the rear
like the natural march of indifference
intent on a search and destroy
of the sky’s so heavenly blue.

It’s a silent but deadly approach
like the reality of a ghost
unseen but felt and known to be
an ineffective and useless guard
at the heart’s unmarked border post.

So crosses indifference speedy and swift
into the haven of love’s settled state
a warrior, gunman, thief, murderer,
in rampant and raging disregard
for what is intended to be.

And the sky that once vibrant and blue
succumbs to a dim and dull overlay
like the eyes of love once fearlessly clear
now brushed with the strokes
of complete indifference.

Flutter, flutter, and I flutter eyelids
simply today to no avail
because indifference begets indifference
in terms of section one hundred and three
of the perceived playact of life!

Saturday, July 7, 2018

The meaningful

She lurks on the side lines amazed and dismayed
and sometimes amused at how humans behave
when embroiled in life’s so many small things
that keep them distracted from the meaningful.

Yet too does the meaningful lurk in the shadows
always in hope of being found and discovered
and it waits and it waits, oh, how it waits
but it ages, you know, like we all do.

I wonder sometimes how it would be
if the meaningful died before being found
and how many would grieve and mourn the loss
when busy, so busy, with the small things.

Now small things exist; they do have a purpose,
but alone they become the “be and end all”
and create a sense of mere self-importance
in those who do not seek and discover.

But look in the shadows; feed the meaningful
and give to the small things enhanced purpose
so all of the things we do and will do
become plain and simply … meaningful!

Monday, April 23, 2018

Tuesday's story

The sun is setting quicker now
than ere it did before
in a hurry to say goodbye
to a world full of strife.

And the night is none too pleased
for it needs not to be
witness to the plot and plan
of what is yet to come.

As for stars they twinkle still
but call and beg the clouds
to hide their light from humankind
not deserving of the blessing.

The moon of course vacillates
sometimes granting love and joy
and sometimes saying, “No, no, no.
What a waste of energy.”

But energy doesn’t care.
it works its magic everywhere
but surely one day it will tire
and retire from the fray.

Then the wilt and wither;
the preamble to demise
and I wonder then if everyone
will know they overstepped the mark.

The mark, the mark!  Where is the mark?
It seems to veer and swerve about
according to the times
to leave mankind confused.

It’s good, it’s good, as only then
can one stop and think!

Sunday, March 18, 2018

The day

Wake up, wake up!  It’s artful day
knocking on your window pane
ready to lay claim to soul
and twist the truth into a lie.

So warm it feels and comfortable
like a much loved cashmere sweater
and we step into the day seemingly well-armed
and yet unprepared for what may befall.

For those who carry night into day
the lies stab the heart with ferocious intent
and sadness sinks down deep, deep, inside
when knowing that soul has no part to play.

So be it; it’s just a gigantic stage play
that keeps both audience and participants
totally wrapped up and enthralled
with the trivial and insignificant.

I watch from the side lines; sometimes I do,
and sometimes distance myself totally
but how hard it is to clap and cheer
those, oh, so many little things.

What purpose life if the meaningful lost
in the total onslaught of those little things
that causes the soul to disappear
and be as if it was not?

Thursday, March 15, 2018


From out the ether they silently come
and drop their wares o’er humankind
not like a rock to stun and knock out
but like the whisper of a gentle breeze.

They return with a smile waiting to be
the recipients of thank you notes
but sadly there is no post today
and no post for many more days.

Undeterred they wait for just that one
who knows the breeze was a miracle
maybe small, maybe large, but indisputable
and finally, finally, the postman knocks.

It’s not that we’re blind; we just don’t see
the breeze that changes what could have been
so how can we thank what cannot be seen
in a world dismissive of miracles?

But, oh, we can feel, we most certainly can
and yet, and yet, we don’t connect dots
or take the time to think it strange
that what could have been now is not.

So write that letter (figuratively)
and don’t let the Postman be unemployed!

Saturday, March 3, 2018


Not behind glass but solid steel
lies the beat of her heart
determined to not ere again
go to another location.

Heart in the past used to dress up
and go out on walk-abouts
but the everyday dirt and grime
like the weight of a brick.

That constriction no happy state
so tears rose up and out
to cleanse, no doubt, God given grace
that needed to be visible.

But closeted so heart now mourns
because it knows, has always known,
that it needs to be dressed up and out
to live up to its potential.

But it thinks of that dirt and grim
and the emotional cleanse of grace
and with sadness looks sometimes
at that unused hat and coat.

Maybe, just maybe, one day again
it will venture into the elements
knowing that tears simply a means
of cleaning what cannot be sullied.

Wednesday, February 28, 2018

One Tree

There once was a tree, though it could be you/me, standing alone in the cold with burdens untold weighing it down and keeping it tied to the ground but it soon came to pass that the sun, in the silent manner of love, warmed from the inner out and it looked to the sky blue and alive and knew of a power on high.

It uplifted itself from pain, from realms not meant to be seen, and it heard in the wind a whisper to grow and enfold God’s love in its being.  It heard and it knew but the world wasn’t new and everything stayed the same till lightening from God struck the core of its soul and moved it close to the sea.

It watched the waves, saw pleasure and praise, and asked that it too be set free, yet still its roots were sunk in the sand in the middle of no-man’s land.  And there it was left to suffer and grow till it bent its leaves to the sea and the sea in response crept nearer and near to the tree grown older alone. 

Sea laps at the roots of that lonely tree and swells with the weight of its tears till the tree in full obedience leans yet further towards the sea.  I can see it, can feel it, getting wet and wetter from the spray of how it must be and there will come a day when the sea rises up and the tree will find a new home. 

It waits and it listens, it learns and it grows, it blossoms the rose of its soul, so all who pass by can smile and say they know where it’s going to go.  It will go, it knows, but God sets the pace and prepares a new bed for the tree but the tree, or you/me, must still shade the path of those traveling towards the sea.

Close to the sea stands one beautiful tree for God has given it soul to feel and embrace the stars in the sky as its very own paradise.  There will be more, so very much more, both pleasure and pain alike, until the sea covers the tree like God’s love has covered you/me – always it seems for how can He leave what He has created to be whether a tree or only “you/me” who one day will reach  the sea!    

Saturday, February 24, 2018

No one

No one said. “Look out”
and so she tumbled down, down, down,
into a world of truth and love
that took her breath away.

And in that silent state she knew
the climb back up from whence she came
the most sad and arduous journey
only the brave can undertake.

But was she brave?  Oh, no, no, no,
she simply was a woman lost
who felt the pull of commitment
to complete what had been started.

And so she took a breath, left the love behind,
and returned to face a world of lies
as a test, I bet,  of her ability
to be a great pretender.

I’m sure you’ll find her there today
amidst the strife and turmoil
of man-made norms and forms
doing what she did before.

She is, of course, like you and me
but she ages like we all must do
until that knowing finally
will become as if a dream –
a forgotten dream
or maybe, just maybe,
almost forgotten. 

Thursday, January 25, 2018

When rain sets in

When rain sets in and candles flicker listless in the air,
a sense of loneliness creeps unnoticed through the door
to drape like silken robes over shoulders of the old
and bring a kind of comfort to the coldness of alone.

Illusions of the night flitter through a brain in pain
as sighs escape from lips into the atmosphere
to freeze and hang immobile from ceiling to the floor
like statues in a park sculptured from unfeeling stone.

But out of sight a better life dances on the beach
to captivate and catapult the lonely into dreams
where warmth of fantasy trespasses in a mind
until the sun in silent mode announces a new day.

Then star dust in once hopeful eyes dies in reality
and lies beyond the lids waiting to rise again
for when the time is right, there’ll be no lonely nights
but a peace and a love greater than a human’s dreams.

Soon stories will be told of how life began again,
of how fables old are true, and of how a human being
regained the right to see a better, grander, view
than falling rain and candles that flicker listless in the air!