Angels..

wings folded taking anambrosia break andlaughing gently overthe lies they hear most oftenwhen they’re passing overthey were saying thatapart from the old ones likewe must have lunch sometime andthe cheque’s in the post andI promise to take it out before…..there’s now I could do this with youall day where’s the remotebut then they got on…

the poemyou should lovethe readers

Layla stood there hoping thatthe wind rippling through her silken robewould carry the scent of her love to Majnunwhile Majnun stood there hopingthat the breeze would carryfrom her forbidden encampmentthe scent of Layla’s loveto meet his own and mergeWhen the north wind blows coldwith snow to blanket the shivering earth,when the biting eastern windcomes with…

comes winging from eternity,to be tasted, savoured on the tongueand then returnedwith love, humility and gratitudeand that huge thing, the human heart;and just a modest hopethat others will accept this thought, this offering?Do only poets know?I hope not.Otherwise, what’s the point?

then there’s what we rememberthat we’ve forgotten;and there’s what we’ve forgottenthat we used to remember;and there’s what we’ve forgottenthat we’ve forgotten.There’s a poem there somewherenow I’ve got that far.Dammit, I’ll go for a walknow the daffodils are out.

of the organic cabbage which fromthe huge holes in its tough outer leaveshad brought it up so lively – perhapsreared in some protected warmth, mimickingthe months when ‘ small cabbage whites’are supposed to live – July to September.Or had it flown in or been shipped infrom some warmer clime?Christmas Day – was that the kitchen…