SOME WITHER ON THE VINE

(on seeing an old man drunk in the street)

For some are plucked

Some wither on the vine

Which has the best

That taken in its prime

Or that left dried and wizened

In winter's blast

Which is the waste

That picked before its time

Or that abandoned

Clinging to bare branch

Never to be plucked

But to wither on the vine

Published 2007 - Time Piece

Stray

Take me to the dog pound

Toss away the key

Leave me there, coat unbrushed

Panting, lost hope, crushed in dust

Throw me a look and walk away

Ignore the pull of wide pleading eyes

Shut your ears to the plaintive whine

Asking for love, a friendly sign

Send for the vet to put me down

Shave my leg inject and kill

Lay my body soft on the floor

Forget me then, this dog no more

Published 2006  - Dead Amidst the Daffodil

BOUNCING

Sometimes you do not feel

Like bouncing

Land with a splat and lie

Compressed

Airless, flat, no rebound.

On half days you plop back

Enough to roll

Slowly depart the point

Of impact

To comfort of shadows

In high times you drop

Expecting

The bounce to bring you back

To the top

All laughter and smiles

The dream is of the day

You fly up

Higher than the descent

Suspended

Never to plummet down

Ink Sweat and Tears - Feb 2009

THERE AINT NO LONE RANGER

See Tonto, you liar, there ain’t no Lone Ranger

There ain’t no Lone Ranger, you see.

No man on a white horse with bullets of silver.

No William Tell music in times of danger.

There ain’t no-one riding for me.

See Tonto, you liar, there ain’t no Lone Ranger.

No hearty Hi-Ho, no black-masked stranger,

No with one leap he was free.

No man on a white horse with bullets of silver.

No edge of the seat with heart all aquiver

Despite childhood memory

See Tonto, you liar, there ain’t no Lone Ranger.

In real life, the evil is often the winner

The bad guys claim victory

No man on a white horse with bullets of silver.

The mask has slipped and the face is a glimmer

The ghost of Kimo Sabi

See Tonto, you liar, there ain’t no Lone Ranger

No man on a white horse with bullets of silver.

Time Piece - Anthology

GREEN MAN

He does not laugh

He does not cry

He does not sing

He does not sigh

He does not live

He does not die

Carved from the tree

Which once had grown

Tall from the seed

By nature sown

Green by name

And green the oak

In which he twines

With leaves the cloak

Sign of everlasting hope

Sign of mystery and birth

Sign of love and sign of fear

Sign of life and sign of death

Sign of spirits still revered

Sign of power renewing earth

Earth Love Magazine Issue 39 March 2011

SITTING

Sitting, did I say sitting

Well let’s stay polite

A polite bird sitting

On a tree by me

Twittering while sitting

Twittering like me

About a polite bird sitting

Sitting in a tree, now over me

Happy and singing

Free to sit or flee

And below as I’m sitting

This joyous friend

Has just been polite

On me sitting

Dead amidst the Daffodil - Anthology

THE SLIDDERY IDDERY

The Sliddery Iddery are dithery swithery

By the gliddery gree

They widdery biddery

And pliddery ploddery and pingery with glee

They wittery jittery, bittery swittery

Join in windery woo

And bundery sundery

Among the footery

fling the foolery foo

The Sliddery Iddery frines of the lostery

Cuddle and wuddle with me

They woopery swoopery

Press and prodery never gimble or twee

Connaly wannaly grinnily thinnily

Sink in cloudery goo

Near handery footery

Between the unmiddery

Dance the foolery foo

This poem was written for a visit to Craigton Primary School

                    Daffodil

The wind blows cold across the lake

The evening sky is clear and blue

There is no sound not man not beast

The bird sits silent in the tree

And far away a church bell rings

an echo of a time gone by

These are the pictures that I see

in vacant times and pensive mood

They come to haunt that inward eye

that is the curse of solitude

And thus I see that dreams lie still

dead amidst the daffodil

Published 2007 - title poem of the collection

                        'Dead amidst the Daffodil'

TIME PIECE

The clock has stopped

Tic toc

Time passes

Tic toc

The beat goes on

Tic toc

But the face is frozen

Tic toc

Fixed

Tic toc

All things grow older

Tic toc

All things change

Tic toc

But time

Tic toc

Remains

Tic toc

Stretched in years

Tic toc

Shrunk in seconds

Tic toc

On the stopped clock

Tic toc

Published 2007 - title poem of the collection

                         'Time Piece'

Your tree - May Blossom

Your tree is in bloom, more blossom again this year

as it spreads to embrace the lawn where you walked.

I think of it as yours though we do not own trees

merely hold them for a lifetime in eye and heart.

When you died I went out at dusk and pressed my hand

against the bark, hoping to hear it tell of you

and of all the people it remembers passing by.

Within each ring it carries the history of life in silent

wisdom.

It tried to talk to me that night and does each time

I stand beneath, if only I could understand

the soft whisper of the leaves filtering the day

Published in Earth Love Poetry Magazine, Issue 39, March 2011

                  Biggar Poetry Garden, June 2011