WHERE HAVE YOU GONE?

Where are your eyes that once spoke of love?

And when praying to God, they once looked above,

Where are your lips, once daubed with red smiles?

And when we kissed, took me on journeys for miles,

Where are your arms that once held me so tight?

And in passion´s loving, embraced with all might,

Where are your words that you spoke from the heart?

And once long ago, they promised me, never to part,

Where have you gone?

SO DESPERATELY IN LOVE:

She was so desperately in love with life,

So through birth, she was duly launched,

With promise, that all problems be staunched.

 

She was so desperately in love with love,

So, she was given a heart of purest gold,

With promise that with this love, she´d grow old.

 

She was so desperately in love with fatigue,

So, Morpheus offered his hand & away they danced,

With promise, of dreaming´s last choice & chance.

 

She was desperately in love with dying,

So Angels cradled her, in their arms of death,

With promise of life, within her eternal breath.

CHOICES:

Cancer, that loneliness, lying in waiting,

With watchful eyes & it´s breath, abating,

His victim, lives his life & is still unaware,

Doing all he desires & still, all that he dares.

 

Then the symptoms hit & diagnosis made,

And upon life´s table, the cards then laid,

The medics say, “You have two choices”,

“To treat or not?” he hears those voices.

 

“No guarantees, in whatever you choose,

No one would want to walk in your shoes,

It´s in the roll of the dice, whichever way,

No one can tell you, if you are here to stay”.

 

ASCENSION:

Ascension dwells in senses heightened,

God´s lifting hells, in all things lightened,

Upon majestic flights, of eaglets wings,

In the voices of birds & those who sings,

Upon wild winds & soft gentle breezes,

In moonbeams & ray of sun that teases,

Within fleeting pelts & flighty feathers,

In plumes of ravens & waving heathers,

Within heady aromas, scents & perfumes,

Where petals dance, to nature´s soft tunes,

In the rising of happiness, glee & life´s sap,

Ascension, into joy & waiting of God´s lap.

EMBALM ME:

Upon my demise, please lay me not in sod,

I must look my best to meet my waiting God,

Not be moth eaten, nor nibbled by the worm,

Not licked by flames, hot to make bones squirm.

 

First wash me in raindrops & misted salt of seas,

Dry my old flesh, in the breathing of soft breeze,

Please embalm me softly, in Angel´s satin breath,

Let silken webs of spiders, mantle me on my death.

 

Place a tiara upon my head, of dewdrop´s rosy tears,

Paint my cheeks with kisses, of snowdrop´s icy spears,

Then lay me down gently, in earth´s sweet mossy arms,

So that I may see the heavens & her very many charms.

WEEKLY WONDERMENTS:

On Mondays, give me moonbeams, pearly & white,

On Tuesdays, turquoise, to make me feel alright,

On Wednesdays, wisteria, to wend my weary way,

On Thursdays, tourmalines, in which to dance & sway,

On Fridays, filigree from Toledo, deep down in Spain,

On Saturdays, satin, from where butterflies have lain,

On Sundays, silk, from the spiders hour of lost love,

All my weekly wonderments, to help me rise above.

 

DO YOU REMEMBER?

Do you remember those days & can you recall?

Our house was so big, with wide & echoing hall,

But now it looks so small & the hall´s just a porch,

Where once we sat, when the summer so scorched.

 

Remember Granddad, as he whistled through spittle?

While he carved his wood & tiny figures would whittle,

And our dear Grandma, would make us all apple pie,

While we lay on our backs & watched clouds going by.

 

Do you remember those days, of long lasting seasons?

When all knew their places & all knew their reasons,

When families were strong & all neighbours were fine,

When outdoors was freedom, those were good times.

 

Remember, church on all Sundays & mealtimes together?

Recall? No matter the problems & whatever the weather,

God ruled the good roost & always watched from above,

Do you remember those days, of our lives based on love?

 

 

ENGLISH IDYLL:

Oh for those long-ago days, way back in that ideal past,

When did that time escape us all & disappear so very fast?

When ladies, in their silly vapours, would blush & pinkly sigh,

When horse & carriage, upon cobbles, would trundle closely by.

 

Those days, when damsels at dinner, said only what they ought,

When gentlemen stayed behind, for their cigars & excellent port,

When warm summer sounds echoed, on willow upon the leather,

When all important conversations were only about the weather.

 

Those days, when showing an ankle, was considered really naughty,

Yet the rosy cleavage was gaily flaunted, by all the lowly & haughty,

When cream teas, set on silver, were served upon manicured lawns,

And summer time balls were danced, well past rosy kissed dawns.

 

Oh days, when hats were doffed & gloved fingers were duly kissed,

With compliments proffered, over sherry & rather dull played whist,

Those days of curvaceous young women, powdered, pale & so wan,

Oh please tell me, where are those days of “Manners maketh man?”

 

 

SPANGLISH ANNIVERSARY:

I´m your English lady y tu mi hombre Español,

Casi cuarenta años juntos & still paying the toll,

A marriage made in heaven, con pelos y señales,

Rushing through the years, como Speedy Gonzales,

It is en toda regla, or maybe, for better or for worse,

Desde carro de de boda, hasta death´s final hearse,

Ozu mi Alma, with our niños all crecido y now gone,

And how handsome they are, y que Buenos que son,

We shall travel together, contigo siempre a mi lado,

Tu, el sol Español, with your dark & English shadow,

Las palabras mezclados de amor & at times, of fire,

Higgledy-piggledy sounds, of Flamenco & ai-ai ai-ya,

El besame mucho & the para siempre, words, “I will”,

Ever in our promises, mas de cien años, o quizas mil,

International relations, eso si, ha sido nuestro amor,

Y tu mi cariño, are the only hombre that I´ll adore,

It hasn’t all been easy, not all fandango, fiesta & ole’,

Pero muchacho, peor para ti, because here I am to stay.

BEWARE:

Beware of all in life, it´s never what it seems,

All plans of wily men & their best laid schemes,

That worm in the apple, so juicy, sweet & red,

Insanity fast asleep, within prettiest of heads.

 

Cupid´s arrow of love, splintered bent & broken,

Demon within the saint, disturbed & often woken,

Hot chili in chocolate, of smooth complacent balm,

The crack of loud thunder, in sky´s undisputed calm.

 

Lime´s twisted rind, in life´s sweet & cloying cocktail.

Acidic juice of lemons, in scorpion´s hot barbed tail,

Sickly sweet words, upon venom´s pink forked tongue,

The secret coded messages, from choirs, sweetly sung.

 

Prayers of adoration & soft whispered words of love,

Handled with gentle care & red-scarlet velvet gloves,

Oh for those plans, of men & their best laid schemes,

Beware of all in life, as sadly, it´s never what it seems.

I SHALL RUN AWAY:

I shall run away from:

From the banal, cruel & mundane old voices,

From the forced decisions & life´s sad choices,

From the so-called friends & my mute-deaf kin,

From misunderstandings, of world´s thick skins.

Come & we shall run, from these things together.

 

I shall run away to:

Towards those cold inclement & wild grey climes,

To where the stone chapel bells sing their chimes,

To where great eagles soar & the ebon ravens fly,

To where pewter, mantles the pearl & silken sky,

Come & we shall run, towards these things together.

LUGARES OLVIDADOS:

Besame entre nalgas tristes, donde el sol ya no luce,

Besame en mis labios secos, donde residen mis rezos,

En mi nuca, donde la brisa y mi pelo bailen el waltz,

Besame entre pecho y pecho y mis Colinas en sombra,

En mis muñecas, donde el perfume ya dueme sin sueños,

Besame en sitios ya solo visitados por los tristes dolores,

Porfavor, besame en todos los lugares ya olvidados.

LOST WITHIN YOU:

Let me lose myself, deep within the soul of you,

Within very depths, of the breath you once blew,

Permit me to dance, within the smile upon your lips,

Let me be in the saliva, from where the soft kiss sips.

 

May I swim within the tears, falling from your eyes?

And be within their lovely sight, lifting to far off skies,

Will you let me amble, along paths of your blue veins?

Let me roll within your tresses, tumbling in gold skeins.

 

I shall rest awhile, upon the seat of your sweet bones,

Knowing I be seated, upon the finest of life´s thrones,

I shall sleep curled up, within the centre of your heart,

By-passing your wily head & of you, I´ll always be a part.

WHEN FLOWERS DANCE:

When flowers dance, the world then joyfully sings,

Birds pirouette to heavens, upon happiness wings,

When new flowers unzip their tightly budded coats,

Showing off their bloomers, beneath floral petticoats.

 

With their fripperies showing, for all the world to see,

Nodding to breezy tunes, from frond, stem & bushy tree,

In season´s melodies dancing, beneath sun & opal moon,

Perfumed petal frocks, in silks, velvets & satin blooms.

 

When all flowers dance in forests, fields & loamy beds,

Shod in mossy slippers & nodding dainty fragrant heads,

The world then breathes deeply & knows that all is well,

And for a single moment, each man, then forgets his hell.

ESCAPE:

Have you ever felt like running away?

To that place, without single spoken word,

To isle of silence, where no word is heard.

 

Have you ever felt like running away?

To that place, where the tongue softly slept,

To that cavern of quiet, where secrets are kept.

 

Have you ever felt like running away?

To that place, where you can go to softly dream,

To that cloud that drifts, with no need to scheme.

 

Please come away with me & we shall run far away,

We shall escape right now, come along for the ride,

To that place, within all of us, so deep down inside.

 

TELL THAT BABY:

Never tell that baby, that this world is rotten,

With no smooth silk, only rough rasping cotton,

Never say, men are corrupt, suffer hunger & pain,

Never-ever tell that baby, that it cannot try again.

 

Please tell that tiny baby, that this world is beautiful,

Just show it how to be compassionate, kind & dutiful,

Teach it manners & respect, where these things are due,

Only tell that baby good things, it´s really just up to you.

 

Please show that baby, goodness & all life´s pretty things,

The flowers that bloom, the smiles & the bird that sings,

Let that baby know, that men can be gentle & so very kind,

Tell that baby, that all is beautiful & to never look behind.

 

PANNING:

Swirling the flattened copper pan of life,

Turning round & round, removing all strife,

Looking out for that piece of hunted gold,

That lonesome nugget, in this world so cold.

 

Panning for that illusive & often lost friend,

Within the pan of dross & within every bend,

In dust, searching that word & friendly smile,

Always seeking, walking that extra long mile.

 

Strangers are merely friends waiting to be met,

At the bottom of the pan, when the grit has set,

Panning through fool´s gold, for a very special one,

That nugget of gold, that shimmers in life´s sun.

 

A DIVA ADORNED:

Oh what a Diva adorned, you are my dear,

Wearing rays of sunshine behind your ear,

Upon your head, tiara of lightening & stars,

Wrapping your shoulders, in mysteries of Mars.

 

Upon your breast, dressed in feathers & plumes,

Jade grassed arms, sleeved in beams of milk moons,

Around your throat, a necklace of stained rainbows,

Rings of bright gems, circling slender fingers & toes.

 

Bracelets of emerald ivy & anklets of icicle´s spears,

Jeweled raindrops within navel & dewdrops in ears,

Daisy chains your girdle, around sunbeam´s soft waist,

Corsage in deep cleavage, of roses, creamy & chaste.

 

Mantled in webs, by midnight spiders, softly spun,

Tresses, combed & coiled, in clasps of golden sun,

Kisses from God, planted upon berried red lips,

Earth, Diva adorned & no man should dare strip.

 

YOU KISSED ME:

You kissed my cheek, & then you left,

You kissed my brow & left me bereft,

You kissed my hand & turned around,

You kissed my breast, without a sound,

You kissed my neck, as soft as a feather,

You kissed my lips & vowed it forever,

You kissed my eyes & you said goodbye,

I kissed your tears & said “please don´t cry,”

“We all, one day have to die”.

FORGOTTEN PLACES:

Please touch all my forgotten places,

Those hidden, by all embarrassed faces,

Touch my nape, where hot trickles hide,

My throbbing heart, where feelings abide.

 

Please touch my wrists, where perfume dwells,

Valley of my breasts, where flesh mountain swells,

Touch my temples, where all my prayers reside,

My eyelids, from where, all my teardrops slide.

 

Please touch my cheek, of the snow white rose,

The hand upon my belly, within gentle repose,

Touch those forgotten places, of my mind & soul,

Please touch them all, to fill this empty & aching hole.

MEET ME:

Meet me, where the mountain meets the valley,

Within the dawn of her lap,

Meet me, where the ocean talks so very dirty,

Upon the tongue of grey storms,

Meet me, where the sun prods with longing,

With his long prodding fingers,

Meet me, where bluebells kiss ancient forests,

Within the legends of Wise Druids,

Meet me; please meet me in God´s Heaven,

Where, for you I shall await.

THE MERRYBEGOT:

Conceived in forests & birthed in old woods,

Garbed in moonbeams & Druid´s white hood,

Raised by nature & the wisest forest´s seers,

Knowing only love & nothing of world´s fears.

 

Begot by fronded mother, while making merry,

Beneath spring´s blooms, of the blushing cherry,

With roses on her cheeks & locks of autumn gold,

Her warm tinkling laughter, cracking winter´s cold.

 

Taught magic poetry, of myths & legends very old,

Songs from Atlantis, by Bards, sung & quietly told,

Schooled in ancient healing, of roots, bark & herbs,

Lending ear to all stories, of beast & feathered birds.

 

Told secrets by the wind & the cawing from black rooks,

Whispered words of love, from streams & babbling brooks,

Rehearsed in the dance of sunshine & steps of silver moon,

She is the lover of December & the bride of summer June.

 

Pretty fair Merrybegot, epitome of all known womanhood,

Within her breast beats, soul of forests & heart of all woods,

Found in the Maid, the Mother & within the ageing Crone,

Deep within her being, is living, life´s real authentic home.

 

 

SIMPLICITY:

Through the mullioned windows of my mind,

I see through the muddle, the things I must find,

Happiness, tranquility, joy & eternal sweet peace,

To attain these things, all the rest must cease.

 

I must learn to say “No,” to all I no longer want,

To break all the rules, taught to me from the font,

I´ll have to let go, of all that hurts & does me harm,

Release it all, set free, with no need to flirt & charm.

 

Simplicity & emptiness, the only name of the game,

And I know by doing it, nothing will ever be the same,

True Liberation is just about, becoming really “Me,”

No more need to follow like sheep, merely to be free.

 

 

DEPRESSION:

Put me into the white room, where all is benign,

Where, of this cruel world, there is no given sign,

No cruelty, no sounds, no wars, nor loud voices,

A place of calm, with no need for made choices.

 

A room with no décor, just an empty white space,

Four whitened walls, with no snarling worldly face,

Where lonely & lonesome, mingle as best of mates,

And demons merely visit, in untimely festive spates.

 

White room, where there´s silence, order & quiet peace,

Where the sad world as I know it, knows how to cease,

Walls I´ll daub pink one day, hopefully, long before I die,

If I run out of paint, just give me wings, with which to fly.

 

TELL ME:

Please tell me those secrets you whisper in prayers,

Tell me why of those footsteps, upon midnight stairs,

Please tell me the signs, of those, without hearing ears,

Just tell me all those stories, in such sorry wept tears.

 

Please tell me in kisses, your silken night´s dreams,

Caress me sensually, in your telling´s soft creams,

Tell my soul & my heart, with your tracing fingertips,

Tell me; oh tell me, in breath, from sugared sweet lips.

HEDGEROWS:

Aflame, the bronze, gold & autumnal reds,

Fox, badger & hedgehogs, hide their heads,

Autumn berries turn their backs on frosty hoar,

Hark, the fleeing of deer, hare & grunting boar.

 

Silent, white in embarrassed & blanketed snows,

Little ones bury wee snouts, small nebs & fury nose,

Ivy & bleeding holly, announce season of the Yule,

Twigs & logs collected, for warm hearthside fuel.

 

The soft shy smiling, of golden sunshine shadows,

Budded heads nodding, in springtime meadows,

New fledglings in nests, serenaded in joyful song,

Sap rising, in flora & fauna, potent, virile & strong.

 

With the last of spring´s wet & cooling showers,

Summer dresses in her showy bright flowers,

On hedgerow´s verdant breasts, gentle perfumes,

Lulled at dusk, by nightingales & soft opal moons.

 

THE GIRL AND THE POT:

Sod dug from old earth & given new birth,

With water, thirst slaked, patted & caked,

By slim brown hands & dusted with sands,

Kneaded & folded, then formed & moulded,

With sun absorbed & herbal juices so daubed,

New pot now born, to use from dusk to dawn,

Placed on proud head, full of grain for the bread,

Emptied & refilled, with water, sloshed & spilled,

Dancing upon black curls, as she sashays & swirls,

The girl & pot, one, together, beneath African sun.

NAMES:

Every little droplet owns its own name,

Every individual drop, of tear, dew & rain,

Each cloud that drifts, alone in blue skies,

Each feather shed, from the bird as it flies,

Upon each beast´s fur, in every little strand,

In every desert, each small grain of gold sand,

Each petal, blade of grass, pod & small seed,

Even the lowly, tiny & unloved little weed,

Pebble, rock & stone, in mounds or all alone,

Each & every one, has a name to call its own.

WEDGE:

The wedge is thin, wearing thinner & ever scaly,

The people starving, while the state sings gaily,

Where´s the bread, for which we thank God daily?

While leaders hold back, hiding & shirking palely.

 

The die is now cast & the mould forever broken,

Politicians acted & to listening nations, spoken,

But their words weigh light, merely mantled token,

The people dislodged the wedge & now at last woken.

 

JUST PASSING BY:

Hello, it´s only me, I am just passing by,

I´m breath you hear, in the softest of sighs,

The lightest of footsteps, you hear in the hall,

I am leaf drifting down, in gold autumn´s fall.

 

Hello, it´s only me, I am just passing through,

I´m love in your heart, where I once loved you,

I´m feather floating gently, from bird in the sky,

Tear rolling slowly, down your cheek, as you cry.

 

Hello, it´s only me, I am just one small illusion,

Flake of snow, a raindrop, without the intrusion,

I´m whisper of all to come & of everything gone,

Merely beam of moon & ray of sun that once shone.

 

Hello, it´s only me, I am just quietly strolling past,

I´m the breeze wafting by, never destined to last,

The idea in your mind & the kiss upon your lips,

I´m life passing by, from whom you´ll take tiny sips.

 

ORCHESTRAL:

Listen to the orchestra, upon dry savannah played,

Breezes blowing gold reeds, as they gently swayed,

Winds whispering wind-chimes, of pods & old seeds,

Softly, singing arias, in the whistling of silver weeds.

 

Listen to dreamy orchestra, of Africa´s sweet notes,

The plucking of branches, as leaf falls & lightly floats,

Twanging of bold heat, from echoing of white skies,

The distant lamenting, of drought´s strangled sighs.

 

Listen to the orchestra, of unrelenting cruel heat,

Upon arid cracked voice, the drum walks its beat,

Thumping & plodding, by dry foot, paw & scale,

Deep within African soul, heed orchestra´s dry wail.

ALWAYS ABOUT HIM:

She loved him deeply & for him she cared,

She cooked, cleaned & of all she shared,

Dawn to dusk, washing, ironing & mending,

On raw knees, scrubbing & sorely bending,

It was always about him.

 

With low meager rations, she eked & made do,

She went without, so he had his warming stew,

She never denied, when his passions roared rife,

It was her duty to him, always to be a good wife,

It was always about him.

 

Her children she raised, good daughters & sons,

Foregoing her pleasures & her forgotten lost fun,

Then her children left home & her husband fell ill,

She was by his side to care & administer his pills,

It was always about him.

 

“What a wonderful man”, said neighbours one & all,

But she then succumbed to death, in one fatal fall,

Her laughter echoed daily, from blue far away skies,

As cold raindrops tumbled, from her far distant eyes,

It was always about him.

 

“Poor man”, they all said, “Now left all on his own”,

“How on earth will he cope, without her at home?

Who will care for & feed him? Such a terrible sin”

From heaven she mused, it was always about him,

But now it is all about me.

MAY I BE?

May I be the book you want to read?

May I be the tree you plant from seed?

May I be the map to show your way?

May I be the words in things you say?

 

May I be the poem upon your tongue?

May I be the song that you once sung?

May I be the place where you once stood?

May I be that love you once understood?

DO I-DON´T I?

Do I like people? No not I,

Do I like animals? Yes I do,

Dare ask me, what or why?

I love all bugs & love you too.

 

Do I like men? No not at all,

Do I like women?  A tad more,

I love critters that creep & crawl,

I love souls with fur, claw & paw.

 

Do I love humans? No I don´t,

In all their cruelty, I just can´t,

Will I be lenient? No I won´t,

Shall I forgive them? No I shan´t.

 

 

THE HOME:

The Home, where they are placed by daughters & sons,

When they´re too old for laughter & forgotten long fun,

Where they´re placed, when forgotten now how to play,

Left there & told, “This is where you´re now going to stay.”

 

Displace old souls, of mutterings, seepings, oozings & leaks,

Sad mummified memories, of the old friends they now seek,

This Home, where old heads are grizzled, grey & befuddled,

Where pills, sweets & treats, get mixed up & so very muddled.

 

Great soldiers once fought, within the old eyes of the bleak,

The stage once applauded, those who are now feeble & weak,

The great mothers & fathers, of grown children & their nations,

Who all once had their places & they all knew their stations.

 

They´re all dancing in the places, where they once used to visit,

Where once they flew like birds & scuttled fast like lizards,

Now, memory´s meeting places are in halls of the unknown,

It is within the four grey walls, of this place called the Home.

 

TELL ME LITTLE ONE:

Tell me little one, how to be a good mother,

I want to love you, but without need to smother,

So I ask you my little one, please just tell me how,

 I´ll improve in my loving, from the moment of now.

 

Tell me little one, how to do it, all perfectly right,

I want to protect you, but without need to fight,

So if I ever ask you, the wherefore´s & the why´s?

Answer me little one, but with no need for cries.

 

Tell me little one, all the right roads I must take,

On journey of motherhood, without the mistakes,

And on reaching the crossroads, let me know when,

On completing our trek, we will both know it then.