J.

how to write this

love

this all love

so full

so true

so every

with airplane across sky

with combine in a wheat field

with symphony orchestra

with a million messages in the sea

or

most difficult

with deed

kind

thoughtful

consistent

passion red

Keats

when I think of you

it is 1818 and you are ambling

Scottish lochs and crags with Brown

and marvelling at truth you see in

silver waterfalls and

green isles

shimmering in mist

stepping ancient paths

stick in hand

just twenty-two and yet so set

on this journey of yours

to write great verses

to create beauty rivalling

the cliffs of Helm Craig

did you know that this would be your

one

great adventure

two weeks of twenty miles a day

past the homes of Wordsworth and Burns

feet touching timeless

sure set earth

from lowlands to highlands

and your mind gleaning romantic

light

to set down

your young timeless stamp on the  

truth/beauty

of the ages?

11.11.2014

I can see that

our cat

left his

footprints

in the shallow layer of

first snowfall on our deck

small

delicate

careful

and it is poppy day

and I imagine this snow

whitening the trenches in Flanders

like icing sugar

covering the dark horror of the night

and we wonder

now that winter’s blessing

curses us

what further horror awaits us

in this weary world          heavy

with the millions of red and black

plastic poppies stuck into lapels of

privilege

even the snow remembers 

Psalm IX - "Jerusalem"

divine water bathes

small congregation leaning on

padded harmonies

eternal young voices

ecstatic                 glorious

rising and

falling

arcing phrases bending branches

waving in autumn wind

this song a part of the divine soul

rooting

down

into

depths

and now we come up for air

and lean forward

and wait for the next

divine revelation

pouring

sergeant-at-arms

marble pillar standing immovable

supporting commons structure

center of our democracy

and in background

wooden archways and stairs

climbing to halls of power

Vickers strides this hallway

black suit jacket                open

identity tag around neck identifying

sergeant-at-arms

what does that mean     anyway

in this day and age of body guards

and security cameras

face set in duty mode

grey hair

tousled from deadly action          just seconds before

and in right hand

still         warm    gun

gripped tightly pointed

at marble floor

man of deep resolve

a well reaching down to

depths of decency and

now lives with

the constant sensation of that

warm gun

as he passes bullet-grazed pillar

Vaughan Williams

brown wool

three piece

walking through yard leaf-littered

orange and yellow deaths            rustling

I meet him in autumn air

weathered face of sea-worn crags

unsmiling

hand warm and tender in greeting

tells me of his drive along tree-lined roads

wind singing through half-bare branches

bringing to mind ancient songs of the earth

and the birds winging into a cloudy sky

we sit on porch looking out

at world wonder              and

wait       wish for

peace

lovely and leaf-littered

blood moon

awake at six

October morning of frost on shingles

grass blades

darkness teeters with dawn

donning leather jacket and slipping into shoes

unlock front door and brace the coolness

on the front driveway

look west just above

branches

dark leaves holding on for another few days

orange disc hovers

floats

dark patches

one edge already lightening

the dusk of a million sunsets glowing

blood moon

this eclipse week of mixed moods

and muddled thoughts

eclipsing sleep                   and peace           and life

until all is glowing

red with rage

above scratching branches