Epitaph, Entreated

 

It’s just my bones that lie here,

I want it written on my grave,

as my soul was sold so long ago,

so keep your prayers, and save

your tears; for the years I gave

you are worth more than the loss.

Wherever I am, I love you,

don’t be cross. I ask one last thing

of you, my one wish, my final boon,

live your life, be free and please;

don’t come and see me soon.

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Legacy Cover Image Revealed

Legacy cover image.jpg

Damien Davis has provided another stunning picture for me, capturing the spirit of my second collection, Legacy.  Approved by my editor at Black Pear Press, Damien’s masterpiece will feature as the cover.  I am getting excited now!

 

Once Upon A Time

The world is a less exciting place

to live in now you’re gone,

I wish we had reconnected,

but I neglected you,

you, who was once my night and day.

Selected memories, poignant,

and pointedly shelved

until after the funeral,

delved into once more,

in search of ancient laughter,

and hints you believed in the fairy-tale,

despite no ‘happy ever after’.

The world is a less amusing place

to live in now you’re gone,

I wish we had reconnected,

but I neglected you,

you, who was once my hero of comedy,

the jokes, for me,

now seem in bad taste.

The waste of a life cut too short

has taught me a thought

that should not go unheard,

could be preserved in the written word,

and I keep everything,

as you told me to, for you sold me the glue

that keeps the pages of my life bound,

and the sound of funny in my tummy,

my inheritance,

other than your impertinence,

is the legacy of your laughter,

and the faith in fairy-tales – hope

in ‘happy ever after’.

Perfect (For Polly Stretton)

Ponderer of poems,

precious,

you reflect, I then see,

under no illusion,

you remain perfect to me.

Let me have my heroes,

they make me want to be,

more than the child

that so many people see.

Ponderer of poems,

precious,

I reflect, you see,

under no illusion,

you remain perfect to me.

 

 

Written for my hero, one of the most talented and inspiring poets I know.  If I am ever truly deemed a wordsmith, Polly Stretton is surely my forge.  We celebrate National Poetry Day today, I aim to do so by honouring some of the gifted poets who give me so much to celebrate.

Amazing (For Alan Durham)

Fatherly love, how else can I describe?

For what you gave me, I could just imbibe,

whenever I saw the warmth of your smile,

I knew that life was all worthwhile.

 

 

Written for a gentle giant, whose support has been invaluable.  We celebrate National Poetry Day today, I aim to do so by honouring some of the gifted poets who have given me so much to celebrate.

Working Class Faith and Politics

Did we rise above the peasantry?

In our quest to become better,

Ignorance fed arrogance,

The yokes none could unfetter,

Proud of our work ethics,

But always burning to be more,

Than we earned, how we yearned,

For fortune’s fatal flaw.

 

We played at being yuppies,

In our shirts and shiny shoes,

Raped righteous resolutions,

Believing we had paid our dues,

And we whored away the destiny,

That we once thought we deserved,

So we could cheat the ferryman,

Our legacy preserved.