Category: Poem

The pane artist

Came in the mid-night.

Portraying his works of

Mischief on the windows.

Isolating me in my dreams,

And I awoke to

Winter’s grappling hand

Fixed firmly on the earth.

White from the tight clutch,

And numbed into stillness

Waiting for the

Light release of sunshine.

Remembrances of days gone by,

Secure within the soft hands

And gentle arms of care.

Being without knowing

Living in the now.

The senses spring to life,

Discovery and confusion

I am me but who are you?

Being and beginning to know,

Living for the future.

Fantasies become reality,

They seemed better then than now,

And we reach for the beyond.

Knowing without fully being,

Wishing for the past.

Grey – brown leaves turn to gold

With the setting of the sun.

Young and old men die

And many leave a heritage untold.

Never were they famous

Or men of great renown

But many is the heart

That holds them dear

For the wisdom shared,

The love they showed,

The hand they gave,

When other men were down.

Lord be with them now,

Each and every one,

As the grey-brown leaves

Turn to gold.  

Seek not your inspiration

Among the dead wood.

The ashes of the past may fuse

To cloud your vision.

Let loose the bonds that tie

To the rhythm and the rhyme,

To the song and story.

Rather look to the living tree

Which holds the power of re-creation.

You can hold the water of life

Within your hands.

Capture and live your dreams

In the day.

Have no fear of the night,

Change the colours that you wear,

Find and walk in a new light. 

Brain triggered by command,

Belly up to war.

Heart-filled invincible hate.

Gut full of fear.

Soldier stand and wait,

Is this what man was made for?

A white horse pleaded with his eyes

For me to trust him.

I took courage and sat upon his back.

As he walked, I could not believe

My fear had disappeared.

Delighted and so at ease

As though with a faithful friend

Who would not harm or let me be harmed.

One who would carry me to the ends of the earth.

Being able to believe in him

So majestic and strong,

The essence of gentleness that was his,

The calmness that surrounded him.

All these brought me joy beyond belief.

And I woke from my dream grateful and blessed,

Ready to take on the world.  

As I hold your hand in mine,

My heart is full of dread.

Losing you now

Feels like the setting

Of the sun.

Darkness falling,

Links loosening,

Lives splitting apart.

I have missed your being

I have missed your touch.

Loss of the hands

That cradled and first held me,

That nurtured and cared for me.

Soothing, warming, healing hands

Now crippled, bent and cold.

Soon now – a new dawn,

Time to be free,

To be whole again.

Lighten up this life a little.

The stuff that brought us here

Is still within.

Mystical Magic

Dancing and shimmering

Flittering all about.

Radiant as the sun.

The stuff of angels and stardust

Of wonder and dismay.

The stuff of laughter and love

Of poetry and song.

The stuff of delight and discovery

Of music and melody.

The stuff of goodness and joy

Of childhood and fairy tale.

The stuff of oneness and wisdom

Of hero and heroine.

The stuff we seek is what we hold

And we hold the light of life.

Desire is a matter of the heart

Flowing at the core of my being.

Often unclear,

Wanting to be heard,

To become,

To be fulfilled.

I struggle to find the words

And even then, who will hear them?

There are no words

For the deepest desire of the heart.

There is no “who”

To wait on for the answer.

But there is a truth inside,

And a Knower of that truth

That surely guides my way.

Connection, love, need

Have brought us to your door.

Steel-grey walls – austere and cold,

Belie the loving hearth and home.

A holy candle six foot tall

Where once a flame was lit

To light the dark and set a spark

For seekers one and all.




A crib, a font, an icon hanging on the wall

The setting sun lights up the room,

A full and busy life comes into view,

Your books in line and now we see

A desk where precious thoughts

Were penned and bound to touch

The hearts of people all around.



There, music and laughter filled the air,

A glass or two of wine were shared

And talk of love and life were found.

Your jacket hangs upon the chair

Like many a morning you were there

That day we felt the loss, 

We grieved for you

And as the sun rose in the sky,

We bowed on holy ground 

And said a prayer.