MY LADY ABSINTHE

In just a few short, succinct lines, I have sought to convey the ecstacy and the agony, the zenith and the nadir, the dream and the nightmare, conveyed by the bittersweet enchantment of absinthe - the potent green fairy of bewitching intoxication.

MY LADY ABSINTHE

Give Grace to My Lady,
To Absinthe of Wormwood,
The dream-robed Green Fairy
Of Delight and Despair.
Delight in her smile
As her lucid inebriate,
Despair in her scorn
As her ague-ridden fool.

WOLF MAGIC

Inspired by the spellbinding image above, the following verse calls forth the inner wolf within us all.

WOLF MAGIC

I am the wolf at your door,
A howl at your moon.
What big eyes I have,
All the better to see you with.
And what big claws I have,
All the better to seize you with.
I am the shape in your shifting,
The dream in your drifting,
The wolf in your wearing,
The teeth in your tearing.
I am the night and your hunter,
And you are the day and my waking.

MOON CAT

The mesmerising image above challenged me to consider what it may be like to encounter a moon cat one dusky blue evening.

MOON CAT

I saw a moon cat once.
Its fur was moonlight and shadow,
As blue as the bluest blue moon.
The moon was its mistress and mystery,
And I but a moon-dream in its eye.

A DIAMOND JUBILEE TRIBUTE TO HER MAJESTY QUEEN ELIZABETH II

My tribute in celebration of Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee - God save the Queen!

A DIAMOND JUBILEE TRIBUTE TO HER MAJESTY

QUEEN ELIZABETH II

Far ‘cross the rich verdant meadows of Britain,
Church bells chime long of the great Jubilee.
Even Britannia raises her trident
Proudly before you in praise from the sea.

Trumpets announce you and fanfares precede you,
Children smile shyly as slowly you pass.
Rose petals spiral from window and rooftop
Downwards in reverence to drift through the grass.

You are our glorious monarch and sovereign,
Bearing our might like a shimmering crown –
Set with the sadness and joys of your birthright,
Sparkling like stars in the evening’s rich gown.

Yours is the fate of our kingdom, and ever
Must you alone bear our sorrows and joys.
Ne’er can the world know your innermost secrets,
Yours must be majesty, splendour, and poise.

So let us praise you this Jubilee season,
Long may you reign o’er our country serene.
Long may your years of resplendence continue –
You are our Lady, our Light, and our Queen.

THE FORGET-ME-NOT

The purpose of this poem is to demonstrate to children that just because something is small, this does not automatically mean that it is of little importance, worthy only of being ignored or forgotten. In other words, good things very often do come in small packages – and remember, even the smallest of things has a reason for being here.

THE FORGET-ME-NOT

Forget-me-not, for I am small,
Yet I still grow where others fall.
So blue, so true, with petals five;
Sweet hope that keeps our world alive.

Forget-me-not, for I am but
A poor wild flower, yet I was put
Upon His Earth, with man and beast
To live in peace when Spring’s released.

Forget-me-not, though small I stand,
A tiny life in giant lands.
For though through taller plants I grope.
Where’er I grow, there too grows hope.

THE MONASTERY

Time-slips are fascinating if baffling concepts, which I have utilised in this story poem. Although I haven’t stated it explicitly, I’m sure you’ll realise that instead of the monk being in the distant past (as the child narrating this poem assumes), in reality he is in the distant future, because the finding of the Cross after meeting the monk inspires the child to become a monk – the monk. In other words, the monk that the child meets is himself, as he will become in the future.

THE MONASTERY

One pleasant country afternoon
Through lonely woods I strolled,
When hazy mists began to fall
In swirling cloudy folds
And blinded every beam of light,
None penetrating through,
Until at last the mists dispersed,
And rose through skies of blue.

I looked around, and then I saw
A monastery, concealed
By glades of trees and tiny flowers
That edged each greening field.
A pretty garden lay all round
The monastery, so fair
With trees in blossom, budding flowers,
Whose sweet scent filled the air.

And high above, unseen by all,
A singing nightingale,
Whose liquid trills and lilting notes
Sailed through each wooded vale.
Sing sweetly, little philomel,
Bring happiness to all –
Shy minstrel of the dusky night,
Of silent eveningfall.

And through this garden walked a monk,
A prayer book in his hand.
He heard the nightingale, and smiled
To hear the merry band
Of feathered singers in the trees,
As thrushes joined the choir,
Till warbling music filled the air
As breezes sent it higher.

And velvet bumblebees buzzed near
Each nectar-brimming flower,
While gaily-spotted ladybirds
Flew by from bloom to bower.
And as he saw each tiny life,
The monk’s heart filled with joy,
As he remembered happy days
When he was once a boy –

A quiet boy who loved God’s works
Of beauty, true and mild.
And so his life he gave to God,
To seek our Lord’s paths mild.
But now he turned, and passed from sight
Beyond the shadowed trees,
And then another mist appeared,
Upon the evening breeze.

And when it lifted from my eyes,
The monastery had gone.
And as for garden, glades, and flowers,
Of these there now was none.
For all were ghosts from other times,
Those realms of glades and moss.
But then, beneath a grassy bower,
I spied a golden Cross –

The Cross that hung around the neck
Of that mild monk I saw.
A Sign that spanned the straits of Time
To lie on grass before
A silent child in country lanes
Whose youthful fears now thawed.
Yes, blessed are the pure in heart,
For they shall see the Lord.

THE LOCH NESS MONSTER - IN AUDIO!!

The Loch Ness monster (Richard Pullen)

Here's an early preview of an in-progress project relating to my poetry - a forthcoming audio edition of Star Steeds and Other Dreams!!

The Loch Ness Monster meets Star Steeds! Check it out!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00LPlCmHOYU&feature=youtu.be

My sincere thanks go to Silas Hawkins for his wonderful interpretation of my poem!