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The Queen's Garden Party

This poem was inspired by a wonderful day, I was privileged to be invited to her majesty the Queen’s garden party 2015 in the grounds of Buckingham Palace.

Autumn Dawn

Forest entrance is beat up, is wrecked.
Run down from too much hurried traffic:
broken bicycles smashed, cars – people.
Lots of people make there start here though.
They go in and I’m going in too.
Next to a brown steel gate that is locked,
a worn path guides me from all the noise
into the quiet, very quiet
world of Lowell/Dracut State Forest.

Autumn arrived this morning, dawn
shows ferns and foliage turned yellow.
Honking Canadian Geese are near
flying to their warmer winter home.


I am like a thin glass
full of water.
When you are thirsty
I will replenish you.
When your throat is dry
And you find it hard to speak
I will help you.
When you need me
I am there.
But if you drop me
I will shatter.
And I will cut you open.
Leaving scars all over.
So you will never forget.

The old Muses

A Musing


It is a long story to write of you,
An Epic will that do
On many tablets as in days of old
This is how your story is told


Of times past you tell
Of battles won, and times of hell
Rest a while let your scrolls foresee
A calming image, for you and me.


Now let me see a lyric you do sing to me
The beauty in the instrument you hold
A lyre from the Greeks of old
Play for me, let days dream by


Same Blood

same blood
different bodies

same air
different lungs

same truth
violent contradictions

Catching The Mood of The Rain

I wonder what mood
has the rain!

Does it feel happy
To wash mother
nature's pain?
Does it feel sad
And fall as a sign
of complaint!

Or maybe it just goes
Mad because of
Man's insanity?

I wonder

Prairie In My Pocket

Prairie In My Pocket
Here in April,
the prairie wind at my back
while white clouds mottle scarce
new grass, I hold in my hand
what has stayed in the jacket for all
the long months since November
Seeds carried through cold times
since that dark day I stripped them, waiting,
from rusty plumes in my fence line;
Turkey Foot, Big Red, Blue Bluestem-
names for an old and simple grass saved
from the plow. Most I scattered on earth far
removed, scratched a shallow bed before the frost

Moms could be Moms only

there is a guy I knew unmarried wanted to marry desparately
I asked him why then don't you
he confided
his mother was looking
for a suitable girl
rich but like a home maid/nurse
so that when she wanted a massage
she would
cook a meal as and when
sleep besides her at night

Seven years she had taken
so far
couldn't be obliged
as yet

Not Disappoint

Does loving you
while we're apart
still count?
Is my biggest sin

that I believe
in alternate universes?
That hope
is like a rocket ship

that can

make it
to other planets,
solar systems,
where all
is dance,
where all
is made

That hope
really does

not disappoint.


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