Eye Music

Footsteps no steps
marks of breath
busking butterflies

Ways in, ways out
fragile quest
thrumbling `n` jumbling
ragged rest.

Pregnant pausing
smiles of glass
coffee and a cake
eye music blast.

DeciBells sing
church refrain
tree bending plaza
coup de main reign.

Sunset, sunrise
time to flee
macabré masquerade
imbibed reveille.

Choral mélange
cloud’s-eye view
nothing beats it more
than the human zoo!

The Extra Shadow

You’re walking home at night
from lamppost
to lamppost

There’s a stillness
a breath
of something

It’s then that you see it

The extra shadow,
and you feel it
touch yours

That stillness
becomes heavy

Your mind,
with fear,
holds a second

It’s time to kiss


with soul on fire
with tired desire
to burn and bleed with solid need
risen and rising
and yet hold back
lest the cracks open hard
cutting the cords
without reward


Nothing is permanent
Nothing is real
Nothing surrounds us
The nothing can’t feel

Be happy with you
Embrace all you are
Step out of the nothing
And you’ll sure go far

Permanent is nothing
Real is untrue
Your surroundings are here
Make your real come true

A swarm of sunlight

A swarm of sunlight
from a crack in the fluid grey
strikes the surface

One after the other
each particle of light
stings my eyes

Looking up I see trees bending
as the clouds rush on by
temporarily closing the door

My eyes hold the ghosts
and as the wind whistles its darting song
the swarm returns to burn through

Distance and time
reveals itself in the smallest of moments
when we feel the heat

Maybe the darkness
intensifies the desire
of and for the buzz

her song of life

I can smell the earth
after the rain

I can sense its delight
its forgiveness
and its compassion

I can feel a slight chill
after the rain

a breath
a breathing of textured sighs
a whispered kiss

I can smell the grass, the flowers; life
after the rain

I can imagine the gentle hiss, of the escape
its joy of knowing birth
and the freedom of release

I can smell and see the earth
during the rain

petals sodden
joyful, joyful, dancing
and her song of life

smells so good

Flying Ants

A tiny droplet of orange
lands on my hand
as I sit reading in the shade

Looking up, expecting to see a bird closing its bomb doors
I see nothing but the blue
and the surrounding hug of the trees’ canopy

I reach down to the grass
to wipe away the perfect hit
and there this moment expands

A plump bumblebee belies gravity
by bouncing atop the grass
and for a brief spell inhabits my back pack

Beneath almost every tree
bluebells huddle and wave
as a solitary white butterfly says hello

There is a breeze of Mediterranean texture
yet thoroughly English in its philosophy
as blackbirds applaud the wood pigeon’s haiku

As the village clock strikes the hour
I notice there is more litter than last year
and more noise too

Over yonder, where I had planned to stroll
is becoming overrun by sunshine escapists
like a plague of flying ants

I’ll sit here a while longer and read
but first I’ll put aside my thoughts
and stroll to the café for a hot chocolate.