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Luck

Turning the corner
The sun light washes away the shadows
It took a lifetime to get here.
A photo album
Of life’s lessons;
Memories cherished
Faces best left forgotten.
Stop.
Cherish the moment.
Inhale
And submit to the whim
Of fate.

 

Translation

Turning the corner
In a foreign land
The light plays tricks on the mind.
The stone fortress lies
Sleeping
Like an enchanted princess.
Tendrils of ivy
Twining
Providing a canopy;
A fairy tale domain.
A panoply of offerings adorn:
Cloth, paper and metal
Offerings to a noble god.
At the heart
A labyrinth .

Veil

The day they put Thomas Clarke’s body in the ground
Was the day she pulled the veil down.
They were young lovers:
School sweethearts.
He loved her voluptuous smile and russet hair
She loved his stories.
Married as soon as Thomas left school.
No laughter of children warmed their home.
No cradle
No little knitted socks from gran.
And the stories stopped.
He grew bitter
She found guilt
And then the neighbours heard the yelling.
She would hide the bruises
Under long sleeves she would sew.
Men at the local pub
Would tell stories
Of young ladies that welcomed his
Flaccid company.
He imagined a smiling redhead.
And then one morning, in the barn
He died
A cold body she found when looking

For the milk.
And then the funeral.
Everyone
Quiet
Aware
Of his absence.
Wishing to say something sincere
But truth silenced their voice.
The space marked a barrier.
She stood alone to stare at the earth
And the veil came down.
Thirty years later
When they found her
Sitting in the churchyard;
They peeled the veil away
To reveal a smile.

 

 

Calm

The door frame marked her exit;

One space between life and death.

Heart pounding against skull

Pushing her forward.

Outside was not far enough.

There must be more;

A distance

Between

The synapses.

They register fear-

Scream for escape.

Protection of a silent drumbeat;

Memory of love.

Now there is only

Crowded rooms full of laughing faces

Turned to her direction:

Sticking fingers in the pain,

Making the tear greater.

Father now

The end in sight;

Home.

Solace at last.

Loving arms that keep the

Wolves at bay:

Respite and enough.

Penelope

In his story

I am a shadow;

Anchored in his boat

Tethered to his song.

A respectable beast decorated

To show

His splendor.

I remained

Steadfast in my role and honoured

The name

And promise.

Gave his children life,

Place,

Love.

Endured violence

Guile , flattery and flirting

And stayed true.

And then

He returns.

And I find my place on the mantle.

Touch

Warm hand on soft skin

Is all lost?

Heart ;

Cacophony within the chest.

The lungs struggle to catch up

Foreign matter on a distant shore

Yearning for more.

One more

And I will explode.

Hope

Learn the wisdom of the ivy

And grow

Beyond here

Ground yourself and

Aspire to the heavens

Fear

I am not enough.

My loyalty was too strong;

Intangible idol.

Gave too much

Expected too little.

My bank account too small.

My heart too big

My feelings too fragile.

Trust;

Too thin

A rope to be explored

Without a safety net.

Murmuration

Salisbury P 001I have been here.

 Not me really.

The collective : my family, my country

Our history.

Past , present and future.

Is here.

On Salisbury Plain.

To witness .

That tank sits covered in moss.

It matches her red hair.

The aged family picture album

Dulled to yellow  and grey.

Once white tents that held out the rain.

His passion to capture the beautiful moments;

Life hungry for more.

Their  love displayed in the rear view mirror.

 The connection between us

When we touch.

A land

Weary with human

Passions

Sighs at our daytime excursion.

Maybe even smiles.

Somewhere between the past and the present

Time stands still

When we listen.

Murmuration of the starlings

God’s sighting.

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