A cherished gift
*
To awake at each and every new dawn
as sleepy eyes, the night’s loss mourn
and realise with a furious wonder
that just for you is another day born,
is to know of gratitude’s true import
and be tightly bound by the thought
of what cherished gift you’ve been lent
and that the time of it’s loan is short.

field of whispered sighs
*
Meet me there in the field of whispered sighs
where rest all the missed ‘Goodbyes’,
and all the tears that in secret have been wept,
there amongst the grass are kept.
I will wait for you til heavy lids I can not hold
and my body gives into wilful cold,
listening to the field trapped sounds gently rise,
to wander lost under changing skies.
Meet me there in the field of whispered sighs
and set free our missed ‘Goodbyes’.

A Slight chance of love
I read in the paper that the omens were good,
as foretold by the pattern of stars up above,
I know it’s all rubbish but I still think we should
as long as you agree there’s a slight chance of love.


Scientists say ………

‘There will be sadness no more
it’s dying out due to something, we’re quite sure
We’ve measured smiles, laughter and even giggles
and though our work may have a few niggles,
our figures and data prove only one thing,
the coming centuries will happiness bring.
Darwin was right it’s evolution you see
sad people die younger so happy’s the key,
so we’ve worked it out and what comes next,
is we’ll evolve to be ‘smileys’ and live in* text.
Then no one will understand what’s been said
so instead of angry they’ll feel nice instead.

A kiss blown


I remembered most how we kissed
so across the room I blew you one
and now send ‘X’ in case I missed



Late evening by the Loch
*
Before me lies such a canvas divine
that surely must I, my heathen soul doubt
and see as some great Architect’s design
this place that makes my Poet’s heart shout.
Spread before me lies a liquid gloss sheet
blue black with sapphire droplets of star flash,
snug with shadowy dark leaves that then meet
in the sky a sepia summer moon splash.
Over yonder glints a croft’s amber light
swaying to a lone piper’s mournful keen,
there to honour the sultry Highland night
that’s by darkness still a beauty serene.
Lake edge water, toys sand with kitten laps
within the solemn stillness of approaching sleep,
while heady floral scent around me wraps
and a voice whispers a part of you we’ll keep.

Mad by degree


I left the Doctor’s feeling quite glad,
he’d said “ I’ve decided on a diagnosis,
I’m sorry but you’ve got a psychosis,
in other words you’re quite mad.

*I replied “Oh dear is it very bad ?”
“ not as a box of frogs if you please,
but if pushed I’d say mad as cheese
so there’s really no reason to be sad.”

I said “what makes you think so”
“well you teach wasps to make jam
keep several goldfish in a pram
and think god made the sky too low.”

*“Oh, so it’s just something I said,
not that I think I’m a shark
or understand every dog’s bark
and keep biscuits under my shed”

“Not in the slightest old fellow
why I often think I’m a bat
while reading books to my cat
and I keep my trifle in a cello ”