Boy in the Cafe

It was packed, that haven from summer storm, on the sea front,
a few places left to sit, the flapping cafe door bearing the brunt
little room for the waitress to flit.

He could just be seen, by the corner window,a mop of blond hair,
a sad stare through glass, finger traced drops, looking at the Fair,
hoping the rain will quickly pass.

A cup of untouched Chocolate, on the table, near his empty seat,
too wet the playing field grass, redundant the football at his feet,
I say “Boy, the rain will quickly pass”.

BITTER SWEET DREAM



I SOMETIMES HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF DREAMS
A SURPRISING VISUAL TREAT
OF SUCH FINE DETAIL MY MIND “IT'S REAL SCREAMS”
YET ONE THAT'S BITTER SWEET.
FOR IN DEEP SLUMBER I AM A MAN NO LONGER BENT,
SHUFFLING ALONG THE GROUND
BUT WALKING PROUD AND TALL,WITH BOLD INTENT
AS ALONG PAVEMENTS I POUND
A REVERIE SO EXQUISITE IS ONE I PRAY WILL REMAIN
AND NOT BE A CONJURED TRICK
BUT CRUEL TEASE IS FLEETING, AND ON WAKING AGAIN
I KNOW I WILL FOREVER BE SICK.


BLUE SKY

When I take a second and look up, way past the tallest tree,

where no birds fly, I’m in awe and humbled by what I see,

a beautiful blue Sky.

And though smothered by Night, inky dark and creamy Moon,

where diamond Stars lie, it’s not long before morning birds croon

to the beautiful blue Sky.

So when fury and malice come with black clouds the blue to stain,

insidious and sly, sunlight will always triumph and above remain

a beautiful blue Sky.