Poetry – Happiness

To put away that tired crutch, knowing

Misery and despair come unabated and run rampant

And all can empathise with crying out into cold nights

.

Instead of leaning into sadnessess comfort, grasping

For minute sparks to fan them in closed hands

And celebrate the mirth and joy each of us shelter, this is happiness.

Poetry – Modern Day Arcadia

In pleasing curves the day unfurls,

With rain to wash the street,

The cobbles glow from yesteryear,

And warm our weary feet,

For these stones are tired and old – unsuited for these times,

But still they stay and still they hold our weight on modern climbs.

A piece here written after a great day trip to Rye in Kent. If you’re ever in the area I recommend popping into The Mermaid for some mulled wine which packs a punch and possibly ghosts.

Poetry – Shroud Approaches

 

In shrouds we approach

weaving our winding-sheets down winding streets

concerned with naught but symmetry

between the then

the now

the space between shadows

and comfort in closeness in comparison.

 

No, time will fly on midnight wings

at every point grazing hovels crowded

on narrow pathways, sky blotted to slits

of fog and faint light

too weak to pierce but enough

enough now to bridge the night.