Dawn yields its rewards

Dawn yields its rewards
Awakening furnace blights dusk
Hitherto darkened slumber
Has ruled the roost

Before daily burden takes toil
The dawn brings new release
Energy ripples through the heart
And lo! The day can begin.


Every dawn such as this, is enough to get me going in the morning. I just need to be ready with the camera!

As dark meets light

As dark meets light
The bridge is made
To divert the fight
And bring war to fade

Chance upon the day
The merry mix of delight
Loves' victory makes hay
As dark meets light

A reference to my belief that there is some truth that opposites can attract

Dark Cast

The light on the wall
The wall is not the source
Like the child in the field
Manifest of innocent spirit
The weary traveller on the road
The wandering ghost of the seeker
Whence forth the light shines
Is the eternal human spirit
Flowing in worldly ether
Fleeting moments, only if we grasp too tight
Letting the endeavour take us
We become companion in discovery
The human light in dark
Cast right alights
The path to the world
And soul, spirit and mind may be one
World no barrier to heart’s desire
All from the light on the wall


My agnostic atheism is often challenged by the perceptions of an invisible connecting link between human beings, and how it manifests in the experiences around us. So this poem is borne out of that uncertainty

On the way

On the way to the christening

I lingered in peaceful woods

Free time of my own

Before that burden of family and friends

The flowers, my wilting liberty.

On the way to my home

I stop for a moments reverie

Spontaneous act; selfless or selfish,

For other’s gain, or mine?

The flowers, the surprise for my love

On the way from their marriage

We stopped for a moments revelry

Advantage of the sojourn from our lives

A moments wandering amongst nature

The flowers, a brief moment for ourselves.

On the way to my lover

I see the opportunistic token

I forget my course

My wife in my mind

The flowers, to appease the guilt of my adultery

On the way to the funeral

I did not want to face

The loss of my friend

A reminder of the triviality of death

The flowers, all I have left to offer.

An oppturnistic stop led to these flowers getting picked. I know why, but I leave it to you to guess the reason, or come up with your own.

The Door Closes on Time

The door closes on time
Do not hinge on the turn
The face of anger attests
To the vague notions of guilt

Assuage not the anger
It will sate not the appetite of need
Social convulsions bear fruit
Thus labour be forced in thy course

The step into shadow
Is the guide to light
Cast upon the verbose legality
To wage war on youth's plight

Thy body is shield
But no sword in hand for thee
Yet the innocence of dawn reminds
To open the door and see

I wrote this very quickly, just a matter of hours after being assaulted by a service user, who decided to utilise a door in the process

Glory in rain

The rain

To me

No pain,

But free

Hope lain.

Showers be

Route to sane.

I see

No gain

For us to feign

Life’s sea

As soul’s bane.

Pay no fee

To the water train,

Find glee

And gracious refrain,

Of solace in me

With glory in rain. 

A reference to my love of the rain and the way that it makes me feel more alive

Cone

There is moisture in the air

The cone of nature that lingers

The spirit of ancient wanderers

Ripples through the knots of land

Each placid landscape reveals

Open terra firma of purity

Away from the urban aridness

The soul of the physical plane stays

And in that gentle serenity

Opportunity sits patient

To capture the mark of the land

And revel in that mutually reachable vista.

A friend of mine recently mentioned how the air in the local area is much more moist than that of urban areas, and the poem just grew from there.

Upon the pikes

Upon the pikes I stand
On the roof of the world
Where all lands seem in reach
No journey beyond me

The well-trodden path

The climb greater than the descent
The mountains have declared

Gaia's tapestry is resplendent

The land beckons
The next rise, the next turn
Each is a joy to the eye
A new song to the heart

The pikes stand guardian
Knots of rock and earth

Custodians of adventure

Watchers of aeons

Cruel masters of fools

Kind friends of the wise

Confronting every walker
Challenging every climb

Upon the pikes I stand,

Discovery calls me, and

From this resplendent solitude
All paths may lead

Based upon my love of walking in the Lake District, and in particular walking in view of the Langdale Pikes

Headrest

Mind how she curves, and turns

The colours of your world

That circumscribe your vision

Bringing parity to your intuitive anarchy

Mind her movement

Her head at rest, but

Her body reaching across

The stage of your perception

Mind the manner of her smile

That your emotions be not overcome

That wisdom does not give to frustration

That longing does not give way to lust

 

Always mind your surroundings

That every moment you see her

Does not risk the delicacy

Of the fragile casing of your heart.

I leave you to guess...

The Toilet Door

Couldn’t you first have made sure?

Now both our jaws drop to the floor

Aghast! I left the room unlocked

The toilet door bolt only half-cocked

 

I’m sat on the throne,

Causing my bowel to groan

Our faces creased with an embarrassed frown

You sure got me with my trousers down!

Just a quick, light-hearted piece for you all.