The Forest on the Pavement

There's a whole forest

lying on the pavement!

An 'Ash Grove' maybe

or a spinney.

They'll never grow up

to wave their branches

in the windy sun,

but turn again

into the dust

from which they came

becoming

rich and fertile soil

nurturing

new life in

new and distant places.

Pools

I love pools

you never know 

what you might find

in them.

Seaside pools are

lined with soft, green furry

 seaweed

like mermaids' hair.

Russet, fleshy

fronds of sea anemones

wave their stubby arms.

Crabs scuttle in the sandy bottom

and tiny fish

dart and hide

waiting for the rising tide.

Today the pools collect the sun

and clouds

and shining on the surface

the image of a man---

putting his

boots on.

The Shore

Standing here gazing

at the glittering horizon

and distant hills,

I am amazed

at the stillness.

The tide far out

no sound or sight

of breakers

breaking the stillness.

Just single streaks

of silver

scribbled across the sand

of dull gold.

A treasure trove 

of beauty.

A Hill

You heave your craggy shoulders

up out of the dusty earth,

tearing the thin tissue of scrubby grass.

Tenacious trees

cling to your flinty sides

like modest sleeves

attempting to cover

your nakedness,

While in the crook

of your elbow

grey-roofed dwellings

nestle.

Poppies in the Pavement Cracks

Such a barren and a desert place.

The hot sun beating up like

Drum beats

From the echoing paving.

The dusty cracks, regular

Dry lines like

Hop-scotch on a play ground.

And there you are!

A red oasis

Blossoming out,

Erupting like a 

flower volcano.

Your red paper-fine faces

Beaming up at the sun.

Your delicate leaves

Like jade feathers

Stiff and strong

Sprawling across the concrete.

The seed pods of past glories,

Straight as soldiers

With the promise of

New birth

Amongst the desert slabs.

Creation work among us,

In our streets

And desert places.

Did it Come?

Did it Come?

Did snow come in the night

turning everything quite

silent and white

making all things bright

and beautiful?

No! the rain came,

rattling on the window pane,

hissing along the roadway,

gurgling down gutters

and drains.

The rain came!

The Sun at Evening

You blaze across the sky

From east to west.

Your fiery rays

Penetrating

The deepest darkness,

The black nothingness.

Shooting across

Millions of miles

Radiating

Your light,

Your heat.

And here you stand

At evening time,

Peeping between

The leaves.

Your shy face blushing

As your brightness

Is cooled

In the depth

Of the pool.

Swan Song 3

Wings

You spread your wings,

Demonstrate the power you have

Over the air, over the wind.

You bow your head

In gracious acknowledgement

Of the wonder and beauty

Of your wings!

Look at me!

Look at me! 

Swan Song 2

I love the way you hold your wings,

You make a feathered boat,

Sail with elegance across the rippled water.

Peace and tranquillity you bring.

So regal, like a queen or king

High majesty of all the lake!

Swan Songs

We Two

The time has come

Together we will work

Bit by bit,

Piece by piece, 

Fitting it all together.

And on it

We will lay the 

Treasures of our 

Life together.

And every year the same,

Treasures laid down

Bringing new life.

In Winter, In Summer

In Summer

In summer the lake

Shines blue,

And calm.

The waters hold 

The boat

As it glides silently

Along.

Only the slapping sails

And creak of ropes

Mark its gentle progress.

Young voices,

Like the cry of birds

Echo over the water.

In Winter

In winter the lake

Becomes a solid

Platform, and birds

Tread carefully.

Even beauty becomes

Ungainly, unsteady

On her feet

Bowing her head

In meek acceptance

Of winter's blasts

She takes the bread

We offer.

Into the Light

Into the Light

And suddenly

I was out

Into the light

Of a sunny day.

The path stretched

Out before me;

Other paths 

Joined mine,

I was not alone

Any more.

 Yes,there were

Shadows

But shadows of 

leafy trees

With sunshine

Peeping through

The branches

Beckoning me on. 

Bridges

Bridges

"I'll cross that bridge

When I get to it,"

I said to myself.

And at the time

It made

Complete sense,

But here was That bridge

And the path

I walked was 

Leading straight 

To it.

There were

 Steps to climb

But the path

Wound on

There are 

Always  choices.

Urban Street

Urban Street

Urban Street

Here I stand

My feet 

Imprisoned

But my roots

Go down deep

To unimaginable

Freedom.

And memories

Are stirred

Of grassy

 Forest floors

Starred with

Wind flowers

And sheaves of

Bluebells,

Patchwork

Sunshine and

Velvet shade,

Sweet honeysuckle

Linking us together

With fragrant arms.

My arms reach up

Into the feotid air

That smells of

Diesel and the

Stench of

Stale humanity;

But moss

creeps over

My feet

And comforts me.

Pathways and Roads

Pathways.

These are some poems I wrote on the theme of pathways and roads. I found the subject quite inspiring in so many ways.

The Fen Country

Flat, flat land,

The occasional tree

penetrating

Those wide wide skies.

Regimented rushes

Lined a reedy bed..

The path straight

And muddy.

It had no obvious

 Purpose, except

To walk the dog.

It seemed to be

Heading

No-where.

Life is like that

At times.

Do Trees Pray?

Do Trees Pray?

I passed you every day

And saw how 

Mightily

You had been struck down!

Did lightning

Visit you?

Your riven trunk

Gaping to the sky.

I noticed your remaining

  shape

Like praying hands

beseeching heaven.

The following Spring

New shoots appeared

And green leaves.

You offered this 

New life to 

the skies.

An answered prayer.

Shadow Poem

Shadow Poem

Some shadows

Lurk in corners

Where the light

 Can't reach.

Others race ahead

of you

Darkening your path,

When the sun is low

And you have turned

Your back.

But at noon

When the high sun

Becomes

A golden ball,

You can look

But there seems 

to be

No shadow there at all.

Facing boldly

Into the sun,

The shadows

Behind you run

And you are

Walking in the 

Light of a glorious,

 radiant sun.

When shadows fall

Across your path

And you know 

For sure 

They'll come,

Remember

There is no

Shadow cast

Without the 

Light of the Sun.

Look for the Light!

A Rainbow

A Rainbow

And I saw

Against the stormy blackness

Of the sky,

Your jewelled promise

Of glittering colours

Arching defiantly,

Protectively;

And beneath

A fragile spire,

A finger pointing up,

A gentle 'hallelujah'

Set in stone.

The Sun at Evening

The Sun at Evening

You blaze across the sky

From east to west.

Your fiery rays

Penetrating

The deepest darkness,

The black nothingness

Shooting across Millions of miles

Radiating

Your light

Your heat.

And here you stand

At evening time

Peeping between 

The leaves,

Your shy face blushing

As your brightness

Is cooled

In the depth

Of the pool.

  

A Winter Walk

A Winter Walk

Winter walks are fun-

With wellies on.

You HAVE to splash 

 the puddles

And run 

in the mud.

But when you

Are grown up,

It's "Mind the puddles

And the mud!"

and life becomes

A mixture of

Puddles and mud.

It's then 

You have to remember

the dancing

Catkins!

Soldier Trees

Soldier Trees

You stand in rows

Rigid

To attention.

Not planted randomly

Like wood

Or copse.

The space between

So exact;

Not too near

Not too far

And yet

Your friendly branches

Intertwine

And twigs touch.

What are you guarding

Soldier trees,

The river's rim?

Cups without Saucers

Cups without Saucers

Sometimes,

People are like

Cups of hot chocolate

Warm, welcoming and

Comforting.

Sometimes 

People are like

Cups of tea or coffee,

Sharing biscuits

And confidences.

Sometimes,

People are like

Cups of cold water

Refreshing you and

Waking you up.

Sometimes ,

People are so

Full of life 

They are like

A can of fizzy drink

Taking their life

 With them

Wherever they go.

Sometimes,

People are so busy

They don't even

Look up

When you speak.

They are like

A cup of cold tea

With the skin on top!

And some people

Are empty cups

Waiting for us

To pour in

The love of Christ.

Urban Street

Urban Street

Here I stand,

my feet

imprisoned.

But my roots

go down deep

to unimaginable

 freedom.

And memories are stirred

of grassy 

forest floors

starred with 

wind flowers

And sheaves

of Bluebells,

patchwork 

sunshine and 

velvet shade.

Sweet honeysuckle

linking us together

with fragrant arms.

My arms reach up

into the foetid air

that smells of

 diesel and the 

stench of

stale humanity;

and moss

creeps over 

my feet

and comforts me.