Pool on the sill

I hear it’s November
but the rains sound the same

The birds, I hear
and see as they drink from puddles

I hear my radiators
clicking, groaning
so it must be a chilly November
but it all feels the same

I see it’s grey out there
and suddenly the birds are silent
as I watch dribbling condensation
pool on the sill

I swim in that pool
and feel a tremendous hankering
to evaporate.

Just another shade of sleep

Pittering it sings
its tiny popcorn popping song

It draws my attention
as sunshine blasts through each drop
to brighten and lengthen the white sunset

Looking to the left
I see a blue of desire
and a grey suffocation

In the middle distance
there is the mist of overwhelm
edging closer to my window

I look once more to the left
and see the blue is miserable
a failed blue, a blue unwanted
a blue neglected

There above now
are the masters of conceal
dark, rapid and unconscious
of blue
and blue is now just another shade
of sleep.

Silence as the rain stops
the mist clears
the birds sing
and even the masters change their hue
and lo, there in the distance
a field of green brighter than spring’s fashion
courting the eye
but blue, she sleeps fatigued
by her unconsummated desires.



Watching the rain
attacking your windows
you see it run; racing dribbles
wasted energy
liquid rope twisting, turning
trying to find a way in

You don’t notice it
fulfil its purpose
of distracting you
from your sorrow
your memories
your future

you don’t remember
you are flanked
as the rain seeps
into your skin
your blood
your thoughts

you see the rainbow
and like a sponge
you release it all

to become





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