Senses soaked by salt permit my rest Hills crunch into stretched out shores peering out to sea And as yellow spreads in the fields, people of the land meet In pubs like front rooms, where the pull of pace Has lost its grip, and dreams of equal importance Remain in the minds of honest folk Who without cause for concern go about their way With hope for the day Trusting it will come
I walk, without thought, upon the past beneath Grey brick cobbled for foot and wood Now rubber and road lay siege To Montmatre I think, without care, of the chattering minds Swapping tales of today Some stick in the mind Others float with the wind I care, without worry, for these people The kindness and beauty of their place I rest knowing it will repeat This love has been here before
Bells ring In-between the regular silence That deafens this place And heals it Bong Bong Bong Bong And now the 4pm breeze Slips it’s joyous cold hands Down my waiting neck Just in time Patience Rewarded As we reach the crescendo Of a day well spent Now an evening well earned To sip On these heavenly bells Silence after silence
Lights of the Parisian night Draw shapes on the ceiling Dancing fairies Who only after dark Play in the rooms of sleepy travellers And us the sun rises from the east The playful pixies Slip away to sleep Only to pause For the visitors of tomorrow
How do I know this intuition Of equal and opposite direction The push and pull of mind and heart Won’t be the undoing of me This self I am learning to hear And evaluate objectively Stands like a criminal on trial How to lead with heart And mind And clarity I question Still, the battering winds swirl ahead They make their signal A decision only I can make With no good outcome Now the procedure is complete The advice is taken It is only me Yes or no
Summer haze came and went Too fast Only with time can flowers of youth Bloom the colours of age Only now can I know What was lost Simple rise and fall Gave cadence to days In the endless sun That rolled into weeks Faster than we Could care to notice The landscape Bore ponds of fish Fields of tall horses And nestled in woods A hut Our summer home This place Revealed my colours Good and bad Self-discovery of another kind Far from home No shade to hide The contradiction That my inexperienced hands of time Could not grip events passed Tortures todays waking hours What cruelty To suffer How might I use this experience In my future Other than to note Understanding That cannot be taught But must be learnt
Behind the doctors house I used to play In woodland empty of adult thoughts A space for this curiosity To uncover secrets of the forest I’d follow tracks of hidden creatures Left for me to follow until The scent ran out And the game was up Our travels were silent back then We came here long ago Searching village to village For place Until the swap Caravan for bits of brick To settle was to Stop Now I follow The trail of creatures Who roam this place As I once did
These gardens tell stories of times past
When nothing but trowel and hand
Laid the spine of petals
In the hardening earth
Our arrival by car is abrupt in this peace
Out of place amongst the shoes and legs
That transported families of neighbouring towns
To lie amongst colours
Pale pinks laid across the Entrer
A sea of green hill rolls down to the dark river
An uninviting strip of wet habitat
Left to rats of the water patrolling up and down
Broken benches and old ornaments litter the river bank
And contrast the sweeping paths tying the gardens hard work
To its veins
The fields are at work
Raw edges and biting temperature
Cut potential from a jardin
Of perpetual thirst
We settle in the shade of two great trees
Baring the brunt of this sun so we may rest
But not for long
We disappear across the uneven path
Cut out through an open gate
And return to our boiling car
Under the church spire
Watching our every move
The tarmac road carving up this landscape Spits up dust and dirt on our travels A fiery beast of the road Ignited by rolling rubber travelling through Yellow stain soaks this earth Baked by the pounding orange sun Brown fields splice into wilting triangles Deadened crops deserted by all living things The greying trees in the far distance Itch beneath their bark in the heat Nothing can flourish here But the soul that will stay its course For as Autumn arrives These deadened lands will perish on their own accord And will shed their skin With dignity and purpose What makes these late august days trying Is the inevitability of a great power Sheering its mite from above Upon an unwilling recipient A landscape raped Bereft of it’s place Now learns to survive These punishing summer days
Light bounces between us As we swim around This square of river In circles together Just us And the waters chill To throw back the years And play I am happy Just being here With you No more The sound of water falling on rocks beneath Won’t distract from this heart Beating to a rhythm I know Our spirit Lives Wisps down the streams Up the hills and tracks Across the sweltering fields Inside sunflower heads Bursting its yellow From its bud It’s no wonder I make peace in gardens now Sparking shoots And the blooming petals Remind And bring me back to us To this place We left Long ago
