In my moment of need you gave me your gift of words

In my moment of need, you gave me your gift of words.

As I lay at the wayside,

Bleeding

Scarred

Scared

And

You told me how much our moments together meant to you.

In my hour of need, you covered me with clichés.

As I stood before you naked

Exposed

Shivering

Terrified

And

You shared with me how our friendship gave you such a lovely warm feeling.

In the time I needed you most, you poured out your wisdom.

I had no money for food

No funds for fuel

Nor hope for the future

And

You told me how much you valued the time we spent together.

.

..

Then she came.

She saw me bleeding at the wayside

And

She said nothing.

Then

She cleansed my wounds

Then

She sewed the torn flesh

Then

She bandaged my broken body

Then

She clothed me in her own robe

Then

She fed me…

No message was upon her lips

Save for the warmth of her smile

Reflecting the fire of compassion in her eyes

She held me safe ’til I slept in peace

Forever

In her arms

Embraced

A child again

In silence

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Poem: Elemental

Elemental-Poem

Elemental

 

Dawn’s

Reflections

Ripple

On the surface

Of the Lake…

 

A Gentle Breeze

Caresses

Calm

And Carefree

Causing

Wavelets to skip with bliss…

 

“Slainte!”

Hails the Shore

As he bows

To kiss

And drink…

 

Above

The Sky

Blushes

A Modest

Pink…

 

While

Deep down within

The Heart of

Mother Earth,

She who creates

And gives birth,

The Fires

Of Inspiration

Awaken!

Dawn’s Cupcake Day – April 3rd

I have a very special friend called “Dawn” who knows me rather well.

She knows that I love cards and thoughtfulness.

So look what she made me:

Cupcake Day

Of course, I loved the opportunity to respond in a poem:

It’s Dawn’s Cupcake Day

 

It’s Dawn’s Cupcake Day

On April the Third

(I don’t know if you’d seen or heard?)

 

I’m a sparkly Lemon Cupcake

What type are you?

Not just any old type will do!

 

Some will be strawberry

Some will be iced in pink

Some will be chocolate

It really makes you think!

 

Choc-chips and walnuts

Banana and Toffee

Hundreds and Thousands

Or Orange and Coffee?

 

Whichever Cupcake

You choose to be

Know that you’ll always

Be Special to me!

Poem: I Am A Church

Stained Glass Windows at Church of St Simon and St Jude (1)

I Am A Church

My Body is a Church;
My Eyes are Stained Glass,
Etched with Experience,
Coloured by My Past.

They change the way
I perceive the World,
Spied throughout each pane;
I see inside-out with mindsight
Thus my prejudices remain.

Every breath is like my spirit’s prayer,
Every word I say I preach
But sometimes my duplicitous message
Betrays a darker gospel lying deep beneath.

For from My Crypt
A stench arises:
Unresolved conflicts from
Life’s unpleasant surprises.

More bitter than
The taste of Myrrh,
I should blame myself
But I blame her.

Forgiveness could
Lift up my eyes
To whence my help comes from
But I prefer the warmth of lies:
The dark deceiver’s song.

Yet friendship enters
Through my porch
And laughter lights my prison
Loves light brings clarity like a torch
And changes old, poor decisions.

There’s always hope,
There’s alway faith,
There’s always love remaining;
So this poor sinner
Changes his ways –
Casts the burden of life’s straining.

I say, “Yes!” to peace
I say, “Yes!” to rest
And I lay my old yoke down;
With lightness of fresh found freedom
I don a new and glorious crown.

Now each step I take is Service
From Daybreak’s dawn to Eve’s sweet end
Each fast I break – a Communion
With much beloved friends.

I was so…

I was so…

…looking forward
……to my bath
A rare
Time aside
.
But
Of late
My thoughts
Have not been good companions.

They gang together
Aghast ganglia
Criticising
Complaining
Finding fault
Bullies
Not a word of comfort
Or encouragement.

I take
Comfort
From the fact
That
Many a time
I have switched off
My computer
On a whim
At my will
With a flick
Of my fingertips.

I know where
The switch is.
I can
Turn me off.

Such is power.

I pissed
In your bathwater.
I downgraded
Your Valentine’s
Card + Present.
I have crucified
My love for you
With Christ.
You no longer
Live to me.
The life
You live
In your aging body
You can live
By faith
In someone else.

Vitriol

In Vitro

Or at least

In vitrious china!


It is finished
.

Poem: I am in love

I am in love

With a woman

I have not yet met.

Our connection

Will not be in her kiss

But in her voice behind the kiss;

Our joining

Will not be in her physique

But in the sensitivity of her physical touch;

Our union

Will not come from the way she looks

But it will be

In her eyes.