rainwatching
When the storm cracked wide open
and the rain broke from the sky
dark figures lined window panes
as the street watched it fall.
glittering in the lamplight glow
pattering on the parched pavement
it awakened that dry-leaf odour from the soil
while all the while above
the clouds waged angry war with the sky.
on night's gift
tendrils pick at my consciousness
sleep beckons
a roaring sea to drag me under
whirlpools suck and crash spray
yet to bed down now
is to give up hope on the moon’s ticket – so,
battle your better nature for better art
guide the pen on its inky trail
but the angels’ choir is audible.
and sleep beckons
beckons.
Bankside
I caught the smell of the river today
nigh on lost in the big smoke of the city –
like birdsong over a motorway's roar.
on inevitability
the sun is at my window
as you were,
there but never mine.
steeple people
I watch men at work
against endless blue heaven
perched high up on a steeple.
and I wonder how it is
that God's own home,
needs upkeep from these people.
Thameside
if I shut my eyes,
this water sounds like the sea
and I could be at the beach,
building sandcastles
and jumping waves -
instead of sitting here,
watching the river
sloshing its banks,
hoping you'll call.
City Cinquains - London
London
from my window
ahead, the giant sleeps
a promise fresh upon the breeze
daybreak.
London
lunch in the park
young romance fills the air
the sun warms moods as Big Ben chimes
midday.
London
streetfuls of life
lights twinkling, neon glows
pints are pulled, ice chinks in glasses
nightfall.
City Cinquains - Paris
Endless
the splendid halls
from sculptures to Vermeer.
I stroll amongst this history,
barefoot.
Summer
along the Seine
musical magicians.
Wine in hand, I sit and drink in
the dusk.
Pinpricks
lie sprawled ahead
like a quilt made of stars
from the Sacré Cœur I behold
Paris.
ode to an abandoned house
Oh poor abandoned house,
how sadly the afternoon sun strokes your ivy-bearded face
How dejected your once proud roof,
now the slates have slipped and lie shattered like dreams on the ground
How wistful your dense front yard
the plants bowed and motionless as mourners at your funeral
Weeds poke from your gutters,
sad lashes on eyes that will never again see
Your windows gone, the wind howls
like a lost child at your rugged bones
The sky blue peels from your front door;
sharp flakes litter the porch like confetti from a party that moved on years ago
A hundred childhoods watched over, kept safe within your sturdy arms
and this is how they repay you?
You who have tasted so many summers and listened to so much laughter
now stand vacant, unloved, forlorn.
everyman
i see no faces,
just shadows
flitting over the buildings opposite.
who they are
remains a mystery
and they are oblivious to my very existence
though united by a moment in time -
a mere coincidence of dimensions
their purpose here unknown
no details of their lives betrayed
they could be anyone for the difference it would make
they are anyone yet they are everyone to me.
for I have seen the whole of humanity flitting over the buildings opposite.