Lounging in limpid lustre
Languid, laconic
Lids lowered, lips licked
Limbs lying lost in luminescence
Laughing lightly
Love-locked
Alive
The After-light
The after-light amazed them
So golden, minted, new
It bathed all life in glory
Perceived by just a few
While most continued guileless
Oblivious to the glow
For those transfixed, it called to them
A mesmerising show
Their eyes were wide , expectant
Their breathing fixed in time
No history, no future
Secure in the sublime
The everyday forgotten
All wondering forestalled
Their being not a conscious act
As they all stood, enthralled
Then, shaken in an instant
The golden rapture left
And all resumed their wandering
sleepwalking, but bereft
Church Lane
Littered, puddled roadway
Stripped in shade and light
Leading on to Destiny
Leading where it might
Weaving past a badger set
Past an owl’s perch
Aimlessly meandering
Past cottage, farm and church
Littered, puddled roadway
Bound t’ward good or ill
I will take your twists and turns
Take me where you will
New e-Books published
For those of you who like my quirky musings, there are now three books available on Amazon Kindle and Smashwords. Enjoy!
Eternal
May I climb upon your shoulders just to glimpse beyond the parapet?
Kneel in awe and wonder at the joys not happened yet
Raise a teary eyelid at the things I didn’t get
Then slide back down in hope, a little stronger
May I nurse the thrill of Heaven through the days of mediocrity?
Sense a golden future when with eyes of lead I see
Leap and fly in moments from mundane reality
Then stagger through my hours, a little stronger
May with pleasures incremental, my encounters come to make more sense?
May I rub along with others, but without the need for self-defence
Disavowing contemplation, find I’m living in the present tense
Then walk my waymarked path, a little stronger
Judgement
In the whole sweep of History
My life is not one jot
My life spent in striving
For the praise and not the blot
The stacked cards of fortune
For another’s hand to play
The crumbs of adventure
Mine to drop long the way
The route convoluted
I’m just glad not to account
For each bye-way taken
For each summit I did mount
The slate wiped behind me
Each day’s options filled anew
Not mine the assessment
One more suited knows what’s true
The Field a World Away
The field a world away goes on for miles
Beyond the seeing eye
Where warming nettle heads nod sagely
As they catch a butterfly
And dandelion clocks the only thing
That claim to know the time
As languid droop the buttercups
In heat-drenched pantomime
Forever green perimeter runs on
To meet the road
And infinite the sky above holds back
Man’s burdened load
To leave him strolling freely or collapsed
In wonder’s thrall
To breathe the scent of summer soon
With scarce a care at all
Hope
I’m re-posting this one from 2014, inspired by Mitch Teemley’s post today 🙂
Like Houdini wrestling frantically in chains
The creature flicked and struggled in its casing
Just yesterday it crawled along the ground
Oblivious to the change it would be facing
Its life had been to eat and move and grow
A mundane player in an earth-bound circus
Its passage was deliberate and slow
Untroubled by the need for greater purpose
But then, when it had seeming reached its peak
Its outer self, once supple, became rigid
It found itself enrobed in darker shell
Its inner core less gentle and more frigid
Alas, it felt its carefree days were done
And settled to await its final resting
It strained a little, fought with one last gasp
Unwilling to accept this unfair testing
Then, as it pressed, a freedom broke the case
And wings diaphanous burst forth
And what had been a worm that crawled the ground
Now hovered, like a jewel, above the Earth
The Fallen
Church is where the fallen go
To sometimes be picked up
Bringing tribulations’ tears
To wash in Jesus’ cup
With grief that’s overwhelming
And failures written large
Expecting condemnation
But relieved to hear ‘No charge’
Our pains feel irreversible
We doubt we can go on
We drag ourselves regardless
With faint glimmer of the Son
And somehow light will penetrate
And fiercest writhing still
To send us back to try again
Re-armed to do His Will
Spring Rapture
May I spend my days in a sunlit glade
The birds proclaiming fit to burst
My eyes alight with a golden haze
My heart alert and unrehearsed
May I sink down soft upon a cowslip bank
And recline in moss with all the urge to thank
Overcome with rapture on my verdant throne
That is mine this instant, yet not mine to own
Ah, the Spring’s delights may come but once a year
May I live on hopeful till they reappear
