THE TEARS OF A MOTH:

In the very dark of the dawn, before the sun is awake,

On the pink-petaled rose, the flower´s thirst is slaked,

By the quenching dew sprinkled by God´s kindly hand,

So that life continues upon this earth´s thirsty arid land,

But upon the rose-bud there is a drop shining on its own,

Falling from the eye of the blind moth who sits all alone.

“Tell me, why do you weep so, little moon-moth?” I ask,

“When upon a rose-bud of such beauty you can sip & bask”,

Trembling, she turned her little blind eyes towards my own,

“I´ve just one day to breed & for today this rose is my home,

No time to see the beauty of God, just lay the eggs, then I die,

My purpose fulfilled & at the hand of the master, I say goodbye.

Never questioning her life´s purpose upon her God´s good earth,

Here to mate, to lay eggs, to propagate her species & give it birth,

She has no sight, for her chore, to see beauty is not ever needed,

Her silent voice, to the world goes unheard & woefully unheeded,

But deep within her soul, she knew in her soft & gentle wise world,

 There was a beauty unseen by her, yet to be revealed & unfurled.

PARTIES:

SHEBANG:

Tea parties, cocktail parties, wedding do´s, stag & hen,

Christening, birthday, graduation, garden, picnic & then,

The dinners, the BBQ´s, the fancy dress, theme & stork,

Parties for getting drunk & others for small & banal talk,

Parties given, accepted, parties planned & duly thrown,

All different, diverse, an excuse for not staying at home.

INVITATIONS:

The smart written card, e-mail, text & the telephone call,

The party´s at Joe´s, the beach or at the posh Haggley hall,

“Please come, drop in, or just pop around, we invite you,”

It´s a bring your own, a theme, just a simple pot of stew,

There´ll be dancing, charades, or hamper under the trees,

Whatever, wherever, if you´re coming, please do R.S.V.P.

DRESS:

It´s black tie, it´s ball gown, maybe tuxedo, top hat & tails,

It’s casual, so bring a costume, we´ll swim, may go for a sail,

Fancy dress, nuns, priests, kitties, witches, even old whores,

Come as you are, just as long as you´re wearing your drawers,

You must wear your gloves & don´t forget your hat with a veil,

Or if it´s Halloween, don´t dare forget your horns & your tail.

DRINKS:

Bring a bottle, champagne fountain or an iced cocktail or two,

Gin of sloes, with tonic, angostura-bitters-pink & even in blue,

Sherry, port, wines, sweet, dry, rose, white & Spanish deep red,

Anything worthwhile that makes you happy & goes to your head,

Beers, ales, lagers, cider, spirits, liquors, frothy coffee & hot tea,

Depends on the party, the venue, where you go & who you´ll see.

FOOD:

Buffets & finger foods, quiche, caviar, tart, cheese, peanuts & torte,

Served by gloved waiters, family & maids, food, homemade & bought,

Foreign, spicy, crisp, sweet, seafood, meats & curries yellow & red hot,

Dainty sandwiches & tartlets on tiered plates with iced cupcakes on top,

Dribbling, sizzling ribs, thick saanies or that posh snobby Nuevo cuisine,

The carbs, the sugar, the crunchy, the alcohol, the fat, cream & the lean.

END:

Shaving & makeup, hair, the accessories & the right garb for the shoes,

All that fuss & preparation, all the don’ts, do´s & just the right hairdo´s,

Now food-stuffed, drink-drunk & feeling sick with the makeup all bruised,

Forget the final good cheers & the fireworks with spluttering & damp fuse,

I´d rather be home, curled up in bed with mug of tea & a jolly good book,

So next time there´s a party, please don´t invite me, just go & sling your hook.

LONELY PLACE:

She was a lonely tot, spending most of the time on her own,

Wandering around the garden of her very big & empty home,

Mother & father always working, trying hard to keep the pace,

But she knew nothing of the adult´s world of money & rat-race,

All she wanted was a cuddle, a story & an endearing little word,

So to never feel lonely again, she made friends with beast & bird.

She was a lonely child, sent off to far away, strict boarding school,

Wandering around the playground where children are very cruel,

Teachers couldn’t fault her, so deep & far away in her friendly books,

Ignoring cruel barbing words, the spitting & those nasty spiteful looks,

All she wanted was a little pal, someone to play & take away the pain,

So she made friends with the laugh, never to feel that loneliness again.

She was a lonely wife & mother, staying daily at home all on her own,

Wandering around her house, hoping her working man would phone,

The babes arrived one by one & for the first time, took loneliness away,

But they thrived & grew into lives of their own, they flew & didn’t stay,

All she wanted was a kiss, a friendly word & the occasional tender touch,

So she made friends with her impossible dreams & didn’t need very much.

Old age arrived with a vengeance & with it; the icy white winter came too,

Wandering around her empty lost widowhood, not knowing quite what to do,

Realizing that, as always, she was invisible, voiceless, sad, lonely, lost & grey,

People passed her by, not seeing her, not hearing her & going along their way,

All she wanted was a simple greeting, a “How do you do?” or just a “Hello”,

So she made friends with her sweet smile & thus her long day turned mellow.

 From birth her life had been & always was, a lonely place to live & to be,

Wandering around the ages & edges, always feeling sadly lost & all at sea,

Never being noticed, never seen nor heard & never ever quite fitting in,

Not really knowing why, nor ever knowing her awful guilt, nor terrible sin,

But making friends with the beasts, birds, the laugh, smile, the sun & rain,

She knew, when death came & held her hand, she´d never be lonely again.

RAINBOW:

Through those airy droplets of little diamond splinterings clear,

Within the glittering, sun-kissed & prismatic drops of joyful tears,

Lies Ploughed across our mighty sky, the frutal orchard of our God,

The holy place through which promised rain clouds fly, scud & plod.

Red berried blood, grenadines, raspberries, berries & juicy jewels,

Running through the heaven´s veins above, with promising renewal,

Ochre’s oranges, sunrises from deep within a warm & sunny Spain,

Their squeezing, quenching the arid earth´s thirst with welcome rain.  

Yellow of the golden pineapples, sharp lemons & of rosy apricot suns,

Metal, silken strands, paving paths where planets & shooting stars run,

Greens of small seeded kiwis, greengage plums & sharp refreshing limes,

Fringing & framing our heavens, fronds where ardent passion fruit climbs.

Blue-berried skies, striped in many berried hues, myriads of oozing blues,

Staining God´s fingers as he drips & juices the heavens with raindrops anew,

Indigo grapes & fat round plums, dye, stain & mark the storm´s dark clouds,

Splattering the juice much needed, upon the planet´s eagerly awaiting crowds.

Violet ice frosted petals to sweeten the sorry, bruised & weeping wanton sky,

As God´s mighty fruit salad bowl beckons & urges us to reach up, to taste & try,

To pluck from his fruity orchard, bounty of every promise, colour & of every hue,

Having savoured the beauty of every one, he´ll wrap the sky again in pristine blue.

URN:

Moulded & formed in flesh, bloodily & intricately boned,

Drawn, drafted, designed & by God´s finger, finely honed,

Or perhaps by the big bang, or could be by Darwin´s words,

Maybe we once were Neanderthals, great apes or even birds.

Made, melded, stirred, baked, kneaded & very neatly folded,

Birthed since eons past, morphed & no longer olde worlded,

Marbled from mud, dust, stoned rock & ancient cloying clay,

Freed from earth & taught by all, how to work, laugh & play.

Time goes by in the vast plan of men, kings & manner of things,

Life´s so short & flies away, swiftly upon the feathers of wings,

We are all just little crumbs, rolled between the fingers of God,

Til we´re all crumbled to dust, finally returned to earth´s glad sod.

From the hot moulten iron to death´s cold & tired journey to rust,

Ashes to grey flying ashes & dust to the finality of soft sepia dust,

We birth, we grow, we love, we mate, we work, we learn & earn,

In the end, returning to the walls of death´s bronzed & burnished urn.