Poem – A Girl

The strangest things out there

catch us unawares.

Spring shone in her skipping step

and bright, daffodil-streaked hair.

A soft frame of petals around a

ready rosebud smile,

I felt the warmth of softest sunlight
when I saw that child.

She stays with me today,

and I wonder, from what world is she from?

One with apples on lush branches

and cascades of lilting bird song.

Not this one, surely, grey

as a pearl-less winters day,

yet this earthly dove

has made me remember love

and the sun breaks through a cloud

and the morning chorus sings loud.

She will make the world her home

turn molten hearts from stone

teach us summer’s power

to walk the world a-flower

and suddenly the cost of

all the world has lost

seems likely to be repaid

all because of one girl, that day.

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Moonwards

The sun blazed high.

I looked to his power

for direction

and was blinded,

scorched until he danced,

a colourful myriad of inspirations,

even further from my reach,

into the sea.


I sat in the cool, soothing air,

listening to owls

telling their stories.


Night jasmine curled around gates

like children’s crowns woven

with white, fragile stars.


A hare leapt across a starlit field,

its tail bobbing like a tiny moon.


The gentle, round face of night’s queen,

simple, white and immense,

rose in the East.


Her light touched me

and did not burn.


I found my direction

suddenly,

under a bliss of stars,

dance moonwards.

Hope

Hope is the fire

that shines brightest

in blackness.

A candle

twisting out

flames,

a burning eye

in the sky,

a star calling

your name.

You will know hope

best when she

is the only light

you see.

Find her

and follow her,

she will lead

you free

from the blackest

night of

clinging despair.

Don’t forget

her light

when

you are there.

Good News Garden

There is only
good news now.

The leaf touched by
dawn’s grace.

The wildflowers
bright again,

bees breaking
into buzz

after the sleepy
silence of night.

Now the colours are
yellow, gold, green,
pink, purple and blue,

a meadow of colours
dreamt and undreamt.

Look close at the
curve of bee
on a papery petal.

Let the perfume
of wild rose
paint you in pink.

Step aside
from night’s
tangle-eyed
shadows
of black
and grey.

Enter the meadow
of clear colour
in sunlight.

There is only
good news here.

Cloak of Stars

Put on your
cloak of stars
and walk among
the rich
and poor
of heart.

Walk among
the tender flowers
until your feet 
smell of lavender
and roses.

Let the breath
of the summer wind
catch the whispers
in your heart
and carry them to
be spoken by
the trees.

Bring the flowerless
the scent of flowers.

Among the starless
be a moon.

Turning to a New Year

Hi all,

This poem has a slower rhythm. We’ve passed the winter solstice now, and each day brings a little more light to us, here in the northern hemisphere. I found myself reflecting on light, and growth which (hopefully) 2013 will bring.
Happy New Year to all!

Hope is a gardening sun
angles of light
tenderly tease
free old shadows
from where they hide
revealing with kind light
their names.

With upturned faces we
ask for illumination
a field of dandelions
or maybe even
sunflowers.

We don’t have to answer
or understand all at once
how water moves within us
so we angle our stems
to follow the light.

We just have to grow.

Together we open
dark doors and call
the names of frightened
shadows hiding so long
until light shines
from every pore.