Treacle {walking}

 

I want to blast the horn

And bang timbrel and drum

I want to blow the trumpet

To shout Jesus is Lord in my life

 

Inside, in my heart, I can dance

Proclaiming from the rooftops

Shouting out with joy

Resounding through the air

 

And I am a believer

I know that it is His chest I lean back on

It is His arms around me in protection

It is Him that strokes my hair

 

But I am stuck

Stuck in this mud filled swamp

Some days I can barely breath

Let alone shout.

 

Just like the psalmist of old

I cry out in the darkness

I plead for this distortion to leave

Over and over I cry out His name

 

I see the people around me

With their bubbly, friendly smiles

And yet I can’t connect

A treacle barrier persists

 

One day I shall jump up

I shall leap in praise of the Lord

But today I thank God He is with me

Keeping me safe and sound

 

I am being stretched but not shattered

There is a strain on my heart as I fumble

In the dark to move to His rhythm

I am sitting in the middle of a storm

 

I have no ship, no boat

Not even a rudder

I am tossed around with the waves

But I surrender all to Him who knows best

 

Today I choose to live, to live in Christ

Today I choose to sit in this mire

Until He lifts me up, lifts me out

And places me once more on the solid rock.

…wrestling in prayer for you, that you may stand firm in all the will of God, mature and fully assured. — Colossians 4:12

 

avoiding the cup

I just couldn’t pretend

that all was well

“tickety boo”

and I avoided the cup

I wanted to scream and shout

and jump up and down

My prayer life suddenly

precisely vile and lent

thank God he is bigger

than any self pitying

tantrum I could raise.

I thank God that he is bigger

in love for me than I

deserve.

I thank God for the guy

and for flick on the back of my head.

I thank God and crawl

to turn over the page

 

granny’s garden

 

the dying daffodils reminded me

of a long ago tended garden.

Each flower had a place

Reds on the left and yellow to the right

 

Granny pulled their heads off

and stomped on each stalk

frenetically each day she roamed

the rows of yellow daffodils

 

grandad could kill nothing,

not even a slug so he slunk

behind and gathered the leaves

tying them all together

with ribbons of concern

weeping as the willow by the pond.

 

I used to think granny hated

like hated every thing

but I think she was broken hearted

for the man she knew before

 

Grandad’s heart was aching

for all the men he’d known

who laid down their lives

in the war to end all wars

 

Granny played a lot of things

taking the role of winner

She hated the name granny

Preferring formal Grandmama

 

But I loved this statue of

ice cold tendrils

I was never scared like the others

She brought fear to every one

But I heard her pray once

For me and R and J

And for the two H’s in her life.

 

Two broken hearted people

Living in a box

Unable to talk or even to listen

Forever bound in silence

On reflection of the pond’s surface

Of a childhood long ago

The only way they could converse

Was having red on the left

And dying daffs on the right.

train of thought

In olden times when trains were slower

a plume of smoke filled the air

wheels turned at a rate of iambic pent.. meter

and poets sat in carriages pipe or pen in hand

rhythmic duh dums filled the body helping poetic charge

and epic tomes of railway journeys

created whilst travelling the land

 

try writing on today’s trains with the warp speed

finding a table facing premium forward aft

full of beer cans and half eaten buns

children encouraged instead of left at home

youths so black in clothes and spirit

 

the man behind crunching thru salted crisps

the young boy playing loud war games with his shadow

the girl in front her cleavage    beguiling

is the closest to any meter you’ll find

no there will be no bestseller written today

haiku

rhubarb stalks

stretch ever upward

poison to my soul

 

willow bare

raindrops ponder

fall to earth

 

bird’s chatter

sweetly sing me

safe in tree

 

dark cloud descends

raindrops follow

wet walk in mud

 

bitter wind

crushes my hope

spring gone again

 

hermetically sealed

from nature through

glass we see

 

elephant grass fibrillates

wafts purposelessly

view yet inhibits

 

cloud shape

eagle lands wide

sprawls wings royally

 

roof subsiding

tree growing

nature returns it all to earth

 

spring cherry blossom

pink clouds

float in puddles

 

black turf melts in fire

gran ponders

ashes and dust all

 

autumn leaves –

black in spring

in flurries caught in drains

 

rocking chair cat

white as snow

clouds pass unnoticed

 

resounding breeze

ruffles cat

black against dark sky

 

hair whips eyes

wind rustles trees

birds take flight

 

touches raindrops

cold on skin

dark sky by night

 

daffodils bend

snow drifts across

smells cleanly cold

 

cockerel crows

dawn breaks through

spring’s happy day

 

blossom bright sunshine

chickens peck worms

breeze gently passes

 

birdsong sweet

child snags coat

birds take flight

 

evening sun coats sky

yellow orange red

cold descends bright fire