clouds closer to home

fill the most devoted eyes

moonstruck all the same

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beyond all the stars

another Earth, just the same-

but oh so peaceful

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the dew has risen-

but my curtailed dream declines

to free the moorland

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stoic horse's breath 

     and the dew as one before

          the blaze of sunrise

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spring of remembrance-

a woodpecker lost to sight

about the gardens

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Who rests from their labours only to sleep,

thankful the day has been forgettable?

Enslaved, who dreams to reach the heights-

his pillow, this song, remains pitiful.

The song of any man, old Adam's

song: a tired tale quite unaccountable.

Let the penniless artist pluck the tune:

scraps of beauty so invaluable.

As men dream to play at octaves higher

all...

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watercolour lights

diffuse through cloudy fathoms

catch the least pebble

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The invisible man
brought me so much trouble 
while my eyes were closed

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seeing another side

to the river, love finds

a long dreamed echo

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from a balcony:
the worm, the bird, the cat
prepare for the day

~~~

a traveller's claim
clear as fresh rainwater
the stream has returned

~~~

where else shall he look-
deep red leaves torn from branches,
his kite above all

~~~

wandering raindrops 
tasked to define a home
land with no trouble

~~~

no use explaining
other clouds blown far away;
take all the blue sky!

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rushing past windows
dressed so very much alike
flute song peeps from one
~~~
opening the door 
to october my old friend
leaning on the jamb
~~~
unconvinced by dusk
boys take to the dusty pitch,
uprights turning gold
~~~
because a leaf falls
who calls my name through the fog;
chained dogs left to bark
~~~
abandoned to chance-
deep bells for just the right beak
and eyes made to ...

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ant on the chessboard
moves to the colouring book
with her own logic
~~~
one duck dives-
here we are all eyes strained 
for the new position
~~~
just to sit and wait
with jackdaws on high branches-
storms may pass us by
~~~
summer almost passed
for a snail glued to concrete
...princely inner life
~~~
worm out in the rain,
which olympic discipline
do you most admire?

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autumn my age
a bend in the river
unfolding my view
~~~
in the orange trees
leaving tomorrow alone
a nameless bird flits
~~~
who believes the sands
of yonder shore where thoughts rest
twinkle like the stars
~~~
further down the lane
shadows face twilight
deep in thought
~~~
it happened a leaf
fell as you answered a text,
it lies at your feet

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far from the highway -
caterpillar fit to burst
settles for a nap
~~~
light  bright butterflies
bring nothing of the darkness
from the chysalis
~~~
Ah, this old hillside:
one day for seventeen steps
a butterfly led.
~~~
heading for the door,
the butterfly in my hands; 
my improvised cage.
~~~
end of the street
two butterflies waltz closely
return to the clouds
~~~

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to my amazement
a stone hung in the sky -
who could help but weep?
~~~
responding with smiles-
the voyaging moon becalmed
in this child's spy-glass
~~~
grace in high relief,
partial sunlight realised:
this phase speaks to me
~~~
grown old and faded,
children's drawings under dust-
the moon has a face.
~~~
swift through the branches,
slow across the milky way,
faithfully, the mo...

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farewell my old skin
tattooed to amuse myself
words no longer true
~~~
this joy so fragile
my moon so white and slender
a breeze could take it
~~~
you sense the old man 
with one more sad tale to tell
let star-gazing win
~~~
what of the coconut-
atom wrestles ocean
for the fabled shore
~~~
the man in the moon
disregarding all evil
takes a giant leap

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I maintain 
an invented world:
nymph and sage
cavort there
~~~
A rift in the earth
where pioneers from both sides 
know no different
~~
rambling rose in bloom
perfuming each stepping stone...
opening the gate
~~~
an ocean by ear:
high excitement where the leaves 
overlook the lanes
~~~
beetle in the water,
this reed to save your soul-
withered and broken 

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willows hanging lower
and lower over the path,
even dogs must bow
~~~
willow as witness
two broken fishing vessels
cast but one shadow
~~~
willow reflections
suffer the grey leaf adrift
and the tailing carp
~~~
the clearest of streams 
cloistered with reed and willow
bright kingfisher eyes
~~~
Where has my love gone?
Where the willow grows for there
leaden sorrows flow
~~~

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spat out by the sea

I too embrace the least wave

risen from the depths

~~~

what has happened here?

all around devestation,

I start by blinking

~~~

universal eye,

the river sought deeper shade-

my heart is unsoiled

~~~

pleading ignorance,

my bridge that one day will fall

invites you over

~~~

these faded portraits

climbing stone steps worn with...

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~~~

lace-work leaves, or moons;
ropes and anchors hold them all
and never complain

~~~

over dark landscapes
countless stars have assembled:
a sleeper may wake

~~~

the rolling moon's sigh-
"your fields my shimmering sea,
could I choose to stay"

~~~

novel constellations;
bluebells intent on beauty
not so far from town

~~~

branches large and small-
cut up the blazi...

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clearer stars tonight,

but dreams are essential too:

by morning, a song.

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