Take some Picts, Celts and Silures
And let them settle,
Then overrun them with Roman conquerors.
Remove the Romans after approximately 400 years
Add lots of Norman French to some
Angles, Saxons, Jutes and Vikings, then stir vigorously.
Mix some hot Chileans, cool Jamaicans, Dominicans,
Trinidadians and Bajans with some Ethiopians, Chinese,
......
Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
the houses in pedantic rows, the planted
sanitary trees, assert
levelness of surface like a rebuke
to the dent in our car door.
No shouting here, or
shatter of glass; nothing more abrupt
......
ONCE more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory's wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind.
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
......
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
......
Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
What the past is like to thee ?
'An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully.'
Tell me, what is the present hour ?
'A green and flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its power
To mount and fly away.'
......
You're the bride I long for,
not in lace or veil,
but in the quiet way
your eyes understand silence.
You walk into a room,
and suddenly
I forget the years I spent
waiting for something unnamed.
......
Her winds still whisper names forgotten,
And her rivers now hum hymns of home’s embrace.
Chimney tops rise, silent like prayers unanswered,
And cracked cobbles mutter stories of long ago.
Still held together by time’s drystone hands,
The home we once knew, now overthrown.
Now, not a place of darkness and gloom,
As strangers still believe.
Nor a land of milky tea-stained dreams,
......
I remember a time
When I never thought
Of the amount of change
The future truly brought
I grew with time
And embraced the change
And when I paused
Change still remained
I looked at the past
Time left me behind
......
In the dark night sky, I sail on the ocean of stars, looking for a ray of light, in a nebula of hope far away.
Cosmic dust dances slowly, whispering promises of the future, amidst the eerie darkness, I found a glimmer of light.
Oh, nebula, the vortex of dreams that never goes out, you draw a path in the dark, towards a day full of courage. Every colour you emit, is a prayer that floats into the sky, touching the throne of the Creator, carve your destiny with love and hope.
So let me fly, penetrate the endless sky, with the hope of being a guide, into a new universe.
Slipi. 05 December 2024. 9:19 PM
Lavender roses
tossed in bright, silver sunlight
Chrysanthemum spells.
Lilies of the valley ring
just when redbirds start to sing.
Marmalade clouds roam
into pink skies of evening-
Jade cactus passion!
Moon appeared, fortunes to tell
......