Tag: Poetry

  • The Experiment, (Day 3)

    So, today we had a Taize service. This is mostly lots of quiet meditative music, with bits being repeated, softly, gently and in harmony. Things being repeated for as long as was felt necessary, but all hte context of silence and meditative prayer. I had already been asked to serve at the ceremony, which was…

  • SeaGulls Remind me of You

    I don’t of then think of you, Not any more. Since the day our paths divereged forever, on that gray step outside your door, I hardly ever wonder, About how things might have been, Whether or not I really do miss your voice, If love will be the same with another. I walk along the…

  • Romance the answer?

    Romance. The undead form of human pretence. We flander in the hope that our preening will get us a mate. Man, Woman, it matters not. The reasons are all the same. We fear. We fear the lonlieness. We fear that we may never be good enough for someone. We fear that we may never find…

  • Blows The Wind

    So blows the wind, The cobwebs from my mind, Awake, afresh at the turning of the tides, It whistles through memory-forgotten streets, To revive haunting laughter echos, The old bones creak and rattle, And rise with the breezes call, It calls to the primal heartbeat, The rythem of a long-forgotten dance, The wind swirls the…

  • Pay The Blind Man, (Unfinished)

    You will always find him, A huddled ‘gainst the cold, a-wrapped in shawl, by the roaring fireplace, till the evnin’ bell does toll. And so we’ll pay the blind man, to tell all the tales, of things he’s never seen, of places he’s never been, to take us along with him, while he shows us…

  • Just To Let You Know

    Just To Let You Know – To Megan Just to let you know, In some short words, The way my heart beats, The love I long to show, I am not a great Artist, No great Sonetwrighter I, Just a humble penwright, of the love I feel inside. I would shower you with gifts, if…

  • The Rain

    The rain saddly pitter-pats out your name, As the world cries it’s tears for us. Theunder gently rolls it’s sympathy, As though it too missess your touch. Slowly the world is washed clean, It’s broken heart healed by the rising sun, Then sit, close my eyes, And wait for the rain.