Saturday, June 27, 2020

Never thought …

And I never thought I’d know
of corruption, deceit and thievery
and yet here I am surrounded and embroiled
in the worst of them thrust on humankind.

It’s like the mindful tower I built
of all I thought was good and true
has fallen prey to despicable control
that toppled it to ground.

Of course I search amongst the rubble
for traces of the right and honourable
but all I find are dust particles
that ne’er again can be a whole.

It’s raining today and where sand now mud
that one day will bake in the sun of renewal
but those days are so very far off
that perhaps never in my lifetime.

But I’ll make my own tower again, again,
because all that I am and all I believe
can’t be destroyed by the hand of evil
so prevalent in these current times.

And so as I wait for the sun to come out
all I can do is design and refine
my blueprints of soul that allow me to know
but that block the infusion of iniquity!

Sunday, May 3, 2020

Before ...

Before the night claims my day
I think of words to say
that perhaps will aid and abet
the furtherance of love.

But then in the morning light
I come to the understanding
I need to grow and increase
my force and effect.

How tall, how big, how loud and dictatorial
and then I shrink with the knowing
the my hands are tied to the post
of plain and simply who I am.

I cannot shout from mountain tops
or dance the light fantastic
to the tune of all I know should be
or simply tell you quietly.

I am here and you are there
but before the day lays claim to night
I like to think that in that peaceful state
everyone is dancing to the tune of love.

I like to think but can it really be
when some don’t think to dance?

Tuesday, March 24, 2020


The air is fresh and clean
and that gypsy over yonder hill
stares up above in wonderment
because she knows that way up there
magic has been made and despatched.

She cannot see it, no, she can’t
and yet it’s real and tangible
deep in her heart that’s been dismayed
and sunken in despair.

For everything there is a time
and this her time to receive
and she will breathe the fresh clean air
in gratitude and thankfulness.

And that time to lose too far away
to spoil her happiness
and she dances as all gypsies do
deep in the essence of herself.

No argument, no, not one
that she is free to be
unencumbered by the grief
and agony, heartache.

Remember, remember,
everything must pass
but always there is magic
that will make it come again.

Remember, remember,
help her to remember!