tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5928585949017247672024-03-14T04:59:37.087+01:00limping iambicsGigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-73201644259971705792023-04-02T15:56:00.000+02:002023-04-02T15:56:14.975+02:00The Pilgrim<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The Pilgrim in him stirred at dawn,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">rose from the sobbing hollow of the
night<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">and crept from where his wanting
wife lay dreaming,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">slipped swift through the yawning
door<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">to meet the bold blush of the sun<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">as it chased old mist from a
snaking track.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">He took nothing, did not look back,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">his Pilgrim heart now eager to be
gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">For many years he trod this path,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">pricked by a thirst that quenched
his burning soul,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">towards the shallow, bitter pools<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">where dust devils snapped at his
heel and laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">And yet he would not stop to rest,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">for had too often found himself
seduced<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">by forest shade whose twisted roots<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">contrived to snare and lay him bare
at last.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Nor would he turn, for he might see<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">the lurching footprints seared into
the sand,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">or shadows writhing in the wind<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">and night beyond,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">that would not let him <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">be</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Just once upon the way he paused<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">and wondered if…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">but then the thought was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">He knew. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Her dreaming done, she too had
risen with the sun,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">had seen<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">and gently closed the open door.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-56404682513238353252016-02-22T15:57:00.000+01:002016-03-05T22:24:02.816+01:00The Mirror<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Good morning, sir, and who are we today?<br />
<br />
I see another coat that doesn’t fit,<br />
<br />
A different hat – so many different hats!<br />
<br />
No tie, of course. You want no ties, you say.<br />
<br />
<br />
So tell me, sir, who do we want to be?<br />
<br />
A vagabond or pilgrim? Prince or priest?<br />
<br />
Husband? Lover? Paragon? Or beast?<br />
<br />
These shadows make it difficult to see.<br />
<br />
<br />
Why don’t we try to step in other shoes<br />
<br />
And walk a mile or two? Ah yes, you’re right,<br />
<br />
Those other-people shoes would be too tight<br />
<br />
And take us to a place we wouldn’t choose.<br />
<br />
<br />
Let’s settle then for something without flaws,<br />
<br />
In gaudy colours with a cunning weave,<br />
<br />
A life-like heart to wear upon our sleeve-<br />
<br />
A <i>heart </i>sir, yes, that always reassures!<br />
<br />
No-one will ever know it isn’t yours…<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-77964543511106802902014-01-05T21:11:00.001+01:002014-03-04T13:27:23.582+01:00Voyage des Rois Mages<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Le soleil n'y était pour rien.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lui, il brillait sans réfléchir<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">et nous, ce jour-là, mal lunés,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">si peu enclins à compatir.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Puis ce ciel, qui nous couvrait de bleus,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">frappant le sentier<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">où les dunes poussaient comme des ganglions<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">à travers le sable écorché…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(S'il y avait eu au moins un petit nuage hésitant,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">une ombre pour nous suivre ou un soupçon de vent…)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">En vain nous scrutions l'horizon,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">quand soudain la nuit, saisie d'effroi,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">s'écroulant sous un frisson d'étoiles,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">nous rendit notre voie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Car c'est l'une d'elles qui nous amena<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">jusqu'ici où, sollicités<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">par les pleurs d'un petit enfant <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: FR;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">nos âmes se mirent à ruisseler...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-50385565101110487932011-03-11T20:38:00.000+01:002011-03-20T16:35:15.832+01:00Song for Richard<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Tableau Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Let’s sail through the night on a moonstruck barge,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Taste dawn on the deck as the stars submerge,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Embrace in the lap of a sunlit gorge…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">And you’ll love me then,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">As you loved me once.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Let’s climb to the top of a snow-blown peak,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Sift pearls from the shale of an ice-blue lake,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Entwine with the limbs of a mountain oak…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">You would love me then,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">As you loved me once.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">We’ll shake up the dust on the Pilgrims' Way,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Sow sand-soft steps on the shores of the sea,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Tread poppy fields to where they graze the sky...</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Will you love me then,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">As you loved me once?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Oh come, sit with me by the dying flames,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">And let’s speak again of the former times,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Of wistful promises and half-grasped dreams -</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">For you loved me then,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Yes, you loved me then…</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span></p>Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-65693794176063989182009-05-09T23:17:00.000+02:002009-05-09T23:22:25.329+02:00Sub RosaRemember that single flower you picked?<br />Gathered in stealth and trespass,<br />Far, so far in that arid land<br />And I, a whisper on the wind.<br />How could you help yourself, I ask,<br />When all around was dust and sticks?<br /><br />Was it her blush, her cunning sway,<br />That made you stop and marvel?<br />Or did you breathe the heady scent<br />Of thwarted dreams before you bent?<br />Did you not feel those thorns at all?<br />They ripped your heart from mine that day.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Warm petals parting, smooth silken lies,<br />Frisson of sweet illusion -<br />Safe, so safe in your treacherous arms,<br />That fraudulent rose, ephemeral balm…<br />Was it because the clouds had gone<br />That in your eyes she saw the sky?</span><br /><br />Remember that single flower you took?<br />Wild and wanton, undeserved,<br />The one you swore you’d thrown away?<br />I found that flower the other day -<br />Fragrant still and perfectly preserved,<br />Pressed in the pages of our book.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-34542980112484522792007-01-19T01:19:00.000+01:002011-10-31T22:21:50.741+01:00Coming HomeShe sat facing backwards on the train to Crewe,<br />watching herself shrinking in the distance<br />while familiar landscapes flickered past the window,<br />though not in black and white.<br />They had been, once -<br />with hairline cracks that burst upon a screen,<br />and Mother, tightly-permed and nyloned,<br />clicked her heels through unconnected scenes,<br />pulling the silent, dreamy child beyond...<br /><br />Her face reflecting in the tainted glass,<br />she stared at fields that billowed into view,<br />the bales of hay like wayward scones - and paths<br />that led to Sunday afternoons, and you.<br /><br /><em>Those twisted paths. </em><br /><em><br /></em>She can’t forget, she tried -<br />examined frame by frame her flimsy life;<br />rewound her soul until it snapped and died -<br />and still she never found the child who laughed…<br /><br />And now she’s coming home for Mother’s sake:<br />dragging her luggage along Platform Two,<br />she bends to brush against your Old Spiced cheek…<br />and shudders.<br /><br />Or maybe it was you.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-61662129696782165942007-01-18T23:57:00.000+01:002007-01-19T00:00:26.952+01:00When Daddy comes homeThere is a moment in our day – which hitherto<br />had teemed with dimpled laughter;<br />tumbled, nudged and winked its way<br />across the sunlit birdsong-speckled hours –<br />there is a moment when the quivering springness<br />starts to slow; an instant when the light falls wingless<br />to the cold earth, a sudden folding of the flowers,<br />a hush of footfall poised upon the roaring brink<br />where with buckled breath we wait...<br />we wait for you.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-1197725627324211062007-01-04T12:28:00.000+01:002007-01-04T12:30:11.046+01:00SonnetWould you compare me to a Summer’s day?<br />Not really, I suppose, if truth were told,<br />Not first thing in the morning anyway-<br />More like the end of Autumn: rumpled, old…<br />Perfection taunts me from a magazine<br />Where Truth is Beauty, Beauty wrinkle-free;<br />I wonder if you wish that <em>I </em>had been<br />A girl to make heads turn, instead of Me?<br />You snuggle closer, kiss me on the neck -<br /><em>“I love you…” </em>and of course, I know you do,<br />Despite the fact that I’m an ageing wreck.<br />“But what,” I say, “Would you <em>compare </em>me to?”<br /><br />“Shall I compare you to this Summer’s day?”<br />You draw the curtains and the sky is…<em>grey</em>.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-3416656764821920912006-12-23T01:40:00.000+01:002006-12-23T01:41:58.507+01:00First kissI shall remember this night, years from now,<br />when life has drifted, settled in the cracks,<br />covering our tracks. I shall think of how<br />the summer moon slipped from her shroud<br />and bowed to peep between the chimney stacks,<br />beamed softly as you said my name out loud<br />and stooped to press your mouth against my own;<br />of how wind moaned, stars clustered, rivers gushed<br />while Time, in eagerness to tell, had flown.<br />And when existence palls, I’ll think of how<br />one night the fretful universe fell hushed -<br />and blush when I remember, years from now…Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-59772504937391829052006-12-17T10:06:00.000+01:002006-12-17T10:08:54.819+01:00JourneyThis is the road we travelled down<br />so many years ago;<br />this is where winding memory strays<br />through leaf blown lanes from distant days<br />towards the place we know.<br />Here ran a river tumbling deep,<br />transparently sublime - <br />here beneath silver-seeded skies<br />we moved the earth with eager sighs<br />and cultivated time.<br /><br />Do you recall the <em>oh!</em> of the hill<br />beyond the flush of dawn?<br />How, as we pierced the morning mist,<br />the path began to heave and twist<br />till threads of blood were drawn?<br />Soft as a bruise, the evening spread<br />into the swollen light:<br />wasn’t it <em>then </em>we turned to flee<br />from where our pain crouched silently<br />and bled into the night?<br /><br />Remember how shadows screamed their loss,<br />bringing us to our knees?<br />How echoes flew, bereft and blind,<br />chasing the fronds of fraying mind <br />scattered beyond the breeze?<br />From strands of fading gossamer,<br />we teased our thoughts apart -<br />and wove ourselves a curlicue,<br />back to the ancient path we knew…<br />back to the very start.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-2259694424175672762006-12-04T23:11:00.000+01:002007-01-06T15:23:15.005+01:00Wishful ThinkingIf I were you, I’d buy me flowers<br />And gaze into my eyes for hours,<br />Or take me out to Alton Towers-<br />That’s what I’d do, if I were you.<br /><br />If I were you, I’d book a plane<br />To Paris, where we’d drink champagne <br />While slowly cruising down the Seine.<br />If I were you, that’s what I’d do.<br /><br />I’d write a book, if I were you,<br />And pen an article or two<br />To tell the world our love is true.<br />I think you should, I know <em>I </em>would.<br /><br />I’d sketch my face in every space-<br />On envelopes, old shopping lists,<br />The pages of <em>New Scientist</em>-<br />I’d make a great Impressionist…<br /><br />But<br />You are you. You’ll never be<br />A man who writes me poetry,<br />Or serenades me on one knee -<br /><br />You mend my bike, unblock the sink,<br />And let me paint the kitchen pink,<br />You gave up smoking, gave up drink –<br /><br />And that’s the way things ought to be:<br />You being you, and me, just me,<br />Loving each other<br />Differently.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-29159329956146956822006-12-02T22:38:00.000+01:002017-09-16T20:28:12.773+02:00ShoppingStooping, she lifts the items one by one<br />
from their wire cage. The drab ropes of her hair,<br />
gripped by a relentless slide, are half undone<br />
and brush against the sort of smile a girl would wear.<br />
She shifts her gaze as packets are conveyed<br />
in single file along the endless tread:<br />
the basic stuff of life ingenuously displayed<br />
and double-checked against the list inside her head:<br />
<br />
<em>bruised apples<br />broken biscuits<br />mixed pickles, roughly diced<br />hard tomatoes<br />old potatoes<br />slightly stale white loaf (unsliced)<br />sour cream<br />bitter lemons<br />jar of cook-in sauce (unspiced)<br /><br />something dehydrated in a dented tin<br />a fruit salad, sinking in its own juice<br />a quarter pound of tea (in bags, not loose)<br />a slice of ham, not entirely cured and thin<br />a Camembert,<br />so ripe she felt it aching…</em><br />
and finally<br />
despite herself,<br />
perhaps because the yearning sprang so high,<br />
the glorious, wicked <em>toffee-cream-banana pie </em>that had,<br />
quite simply,<br />
<em>hurtled</em> off the shelf…Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-592858594901724767.post-79598639996073478272006-11-30T20:07:00.000+01:002006-11-30T21:01:10.324+01:00Empirical BalladI wanted to be a poet,<br />So I got a book and wouldn’t you know it!<br />It looked very hard<br />To get to be a good bard,<br />But I had a go and this is what I’ve got to show for it.<br /><br />I read about scan, and iambic pen-<br />tameter, so I had a go at wri-<br />ting a Shakespearian sonnet but when<br />my syllables got too stressed, up gave I.<br /><br />Rhyme was next. It was very difficult<br />To make any sense, a bit like a catapult.<br />Arduous adjectives, alliteration,<br />Drove me to drivel in dire desperation.<br /><br />Perhaps a haiku:<br />Words dripping on to paper,<br />Tears for the unborn.<br /><br />My head aches, and a drowsy numbness pains<br />My wrist. I think I need a nice, stiff drink,<br />This poem lark has only dulled my brains-<br />One minute more, and I’d have cracked, I think.<br />Those arty folk can keep their villanelles -<br />There’s poetry enough in turquoise skies,<br />In autumn rain, in mossy forest glades;<br />While in my heart a ballad swells,<br />For there’s a sonnet in your lovely eyes,<br />And on your lips a thousand serenades.Gigihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07442510440531817842noreply@blogger.com0