Tuesday 26 March 2013

UNSPOKEN WORDS:



Wordless love at babe’s new birth,
Unspoken words of what we´re doing to earth,
Guiding touch to the deaf & the mute,
Unspoken words of the drum, string & flute,
The loving look of needless sayings,
Unspoken words by parents at son´s life´s swayings,
Looks of lust & of love´s undying,
Unspoken words of precious winged ones flying,
Silent hopes, still wishes & unheard prayers,
Unspoken words of frozen wolves hidden in their lairs,
Un-scribed pages of those long lost schemes,
Unspoken words of those unlived & escaping dreams,
The last epitaph upon life´s final home,
Unspoken words lulling upon the life lived tome.

THE SONG:



She´s danced through the valleys, the forests & dales,
She´s the lover caressed upon the harps of sweet Erin,
She´s softly whispered in oceans by love-lorn whales,
She´s the echoing by the Gods, forgiving men´s sins,
She´s the song:

She´s carried upon the backs of hard working men,
She´s bestowed upon the ear of the sleeping babe,
She´s given to the mute & deaf by the magic hand,
She´s gifted to the dead, when in tombs they´re laid,
She´s the song:

She´s the love holding hands with the mother´s heart,
She´s the serenading beneath the moon-beamed pane,
She´s the wailing note when the feathered ones depart,
She´s that ancient chanting that beckons the errant rain,
She´s the song:

She´s the wistful fado, rap, rock, folk-tune & the old ole´,
She´s red-Gypsy flamenco, strummed on ancient strings,
She´s sacred, she´s fun, sensuous & knows how to play,
And in holy places & hearts, she spreads her soaring wings,
She´s the song:


THE ARTIST:



When poppies blush red upon the cheek of the land,
I know it has been painted by your old restless hand,
When the sun bestows its smile on the brow of the hill,
It has been sketched by your name with eloquent quill.

When tears of joy gush from the eyes of cold streams,
Wept by brush dipped in paint, kissing canvas & reams,
When the fingers of the breeze play with tresses of trees,
Colours of life are mixed & from paint tubes are squeezed.

When wavelets tickle to giggles the iced shoreline stones,
Upon your palette, you mix & meld their old veins & bones,
When the falcon is deftly daubed upon the mind of the sky,
You see him soaring in your soul before he reaches your eye.

When moonbeams tuck the fields into ebony starred beds,
The planets guiding your hand to what´s now in your head,
When the sky´s happiness is sobbed in the droplets of rain,
Inspiration floats, like snowflakes upon white waiting plains.

And when pretty rainbows roof the humble abodes of men,
There´s autumn gold’s in the wood & floral spring in the fen,
I then know, that your paint box is ajar & waiting once more,
And your hand daubs the entrance of heaven´s waiting door.

Sunday 24 March 2013

FLYING THE NEST:



You´ve grown too fast and out of my hands,
Now wanting to fly and explore new lands,
You now want a life that´s not in my plans,
When into my arms, as a babe you once ran.

Feathers now ruffled and your pride stands tall,
I ask, “Who’s that young man standing in the hall?”
Shadow of beard and future upon your young face,
Your time has come, to walk away from this place.

My little boy has grown and become now a man,
One last kiss and now you slip through my hands,
No matter where you go, nor wherever you roam,
You´re always my little boy when you come back home.

Friday 22 March 2013

I WANT IT ALL:



I want caviar, oysters and expensive champagne,
I want it all and no, for this I´m not at all ashamed,
To tell the whole world that I love all these treats
Of pretty hats and designer shoes to adorn my feet.

Gowns in luxurious velvets, satins and flimsy soft silk,
I want to be pampered, spoilt and daily bathed in milk,
My hair curled, lips red and my cheeks pat with rouge,
Travelling the world, from hot India to cool leafy Bruges.

I want lots of jewels and gems, silver, diamonds and gold,
They´d adorn my body from youth, till I´m wrinkled and old,
I don´t give a damn what the folk in this world have to say,
When this old dame flaunts it all and then goes on her way.

I want to be dressed like a Yule tree and painted like mural,
I shall jangle like an orchestra and I´ll be anything but rural,
I shall be dancing like a banshee and I´ll sing with the moon,
Life is too short, I want it all, as we´ll all be gone far too soon.

I want to be garbed in all colours and reek of rich perfumes,
Please give it all to me now dear life, as it is never too soon,
I want to boogie in discos, rap in the hood and waltz at the ball,
I want it now, over the top, exaggerated, I absolutely want it all.