Poem – The Glorious Colours of Death

The Glorious Colours of Death

Are Autumn’s Two-Edged Gift

At once Bless-ed and Bereft

As Nature’s Seasons Shift

With Winter’s Icy Kiss

Mere Weeks’ Breath Hiss Away

These Colours of such Bliss

I Celebrate this Day.



Poem – Words Change Worlds

Living Epistles (1)

Every word within this World is rich in associations.

Words combined together have captured imaginations.

Words believed and acted upon, have changed the fate of Nations.

Thus, Dear Friend, I share these words in linguistic celebration!

Here’s to transformation!

Words in Light (4) Change Freedom Liberty Justice Society Responsibility

Pupils WIDE Open


Pupils W-I-D-E Open

The Caterpillar cried, “It’s the End of the World!”

The Butterfly sighed, “It’s the Beginning!”

The Caterpillar spat, “You’re mad and deranged!”

The Butterfly said then, “Just kidding!”

For when the student is ready,

The Master will appear.

But until that time arrives

You’d better not be clear!


Talk in parables and rhymes

In riddles and in stories

Or you’re words will be judged as crimes

Begetting hate, not glory.

Best to keep one’s mouth shut

In the presence of the ‘deaf’

For only when their ears are opened

Can you bring them life, not death.

Never force feed the satiated

Their glass not half but full

For they will rend you in an instant

Declaring you, “The Fool!”

You can tell when they are ready

By a twinkle in their eye

Only then, can you share reality

The Truth, and not their Lie.

Oh, half the World’s in darkness

The other in The Light

But which half’s which is tricky

Not clear as Day and Night.

I know those souls who are waiting

They’re often drawn to me

Their pupils anticipating

The words that set them free.

Seeking Revelation?

Then read behind my lines.

For hidden betwixt the syllables

Your lesson you will find.

But if you’re yet happy with your life

There’s no need to seek a pearl

Just soldier on until you twig

It’s the Ending of Your World!


At Poets’ Corner

Lex at Poets Corner Cafe (2)

At Poet’s Corner

I am divided,

Betwixt Past and Present,

Still, undecided:

Thomas Hardy?

Or William Barnes?

Or David Caddy

To work his charms?

To whom shall I lend

My imagination for a spell?

At Poets’ Corner

I pause and dwell.

With tea in one hand

And poetry book in the other

I am transported

By my love for

Poetry and tea

Sausage and sagacity!