Seeing reflections as they dance
to life’s ongoing masquerade
I pause to admire patterns
created with such magic
as only imagination can enhance

I pause also to ponder
only to fail in my thoughts,
for my reflection
when I cannot

On reading

On reading this book
I begin to understand something.

As I turn each page
I see how the previous reader
had taken it.

Whereas I read
and get caught in the feelings of the thing
the previous tenant
brought their pet with them
to meander
and to pause
for their pet to mark its territory.

On reading this book
conflict arises
as understanding takes a turn
and I feel
the path
before me
into nothing but a series of
crumblings …

as waves
crash into cliffs
so it is

Pearl in a dust-bin

Sometimes I think my mind is on another planet, or even another dimension where it’s writing with gusto leaving me blank and pallid so I apologise for my silence lately. The feelings I have to be able to write just aren’t around and I’m not going to force the words to appear.

However, I have been reading quite a bit and as you can see on the right there I am currently reading the huge four volume A Short History of the English People by John Richard Green. I’m about three quarters through volume 2 and Queen Elizabeth is on the throne being pestered by Queen Mary of Scots. I’m also reading Sir Walter Scott’s Lay of the Last Minstrel.

Previous to this I read a wonderful book by Marie Corelli called The Sorrows of Satan and if you get a chance I recommend it. Here are two quotes from the many excellent examples of her writing in the book.

…Be sure that if you are unhappily celebrated for either beauty, wit, intellect, or all three together, halfsociety wishes you dead already, and the other half tries to make you as wretched as possible while you are alive…

…To be missed at all when you die, some one must love you very deeply and unselfishly; and deep unselfish love is rarer to find among mortals than a pearl in a dust-bin…

I hope to be back soon with poems.

Happy Sunday and thanks for visiting 🙂

Guardian angel, soul, spirit or ?

This morning I was quite late getting up for work (luckily I made it in time), my alarm goes off at 4am then 4.05 and 4.10. Generally I get up on the last alarm but this morning I fell asleep again and slept till 4.40! and I have to be in at 5 :-/

Now, what made me wake at 4.40 and not sleep till 6 or later (ah what a thought!)? As I get up every work day at 4.10 it is ingrained in my body clock to naturally wake but not this morning and as I have been quite tired these past weeks I reckon my clock thought it would give me a rest.

Anyhow, the reason for this rather strange blog post is that this morning at 4.40 I woke, not by my own body clock but by a voice somewhere in my mind.

It was a lady’s voice and it said “Martin, come on Martin.”

I was puzzled but dashed out of bed, said thank you to whoever it was, and so the day began.

What I want to know is, where did the voice come from and who was it?

On the way to work I noticed it was a full moon and sometimes these full moons do affect me which was probably the reason I overslept. But doubtful it was the moon speaking!

So who was it?

I have heard my name called before in my mind but that was while I was awake and as a rule I don’t hear anything (or see anything) in my mind anyhow so I’m perplexed but thankful for a “friend”.


to understand
to be aware
to acknowledge

those blankets
of peacefulness and violence

we reach beyond
to that shroud
whence we came

perhaps to understand freedom
perhaps to be aware of love
perhaps to acknowledge our failures

And there are those clouds
gone in a whisper
in the time it takes to write a poem

That, feeling

right in the pit
a feather with boots and wings

that, feeling
of desire
of a need to compress

tremulous it starts
wings of springs and glorious things

that, feeling
of apprehension
of a call to unwind

such warmth
calling and falling

that, feeling
of inhibition
of a flavour to inhale

and so release
into the wild
of the evening sky