A Body in Eden

In paradise lay a serene and empty form

With eyes closed and clothes left torn,

That sweet birds sang to through the day

For in Eden did his body stay.

 

A myriad of flowers grew in his open hand

And autumn leaves like fallen dryads land

Upon this body now cold and alone

For in Eden he died unknown.

 

Nothing of heart or feeling remains

Under the first born sun or the eternal rain.

This child was born only to die

For in Eden did his body lie.

A Ramble

I left behind the smoking wreckage,

Walked away from that old fire.

Oh I caught my whale alright

That was a product of my sight,

I can fake the chills in the night

Though I have never been there.

I can feel the sand on a shore

That I have never been too,

And conjure up a false emotion

Strong like a blue star.

I had a hit, or two, and sadness comes

When you realise you are not the only one.

That is not the case, however you may believe,

We are all whippets on the track

Chasing the political game

Wrapped in torchlight, melted candles

Restaurants with smiles and fake smiles,

A shiny car, belief in your fingers,

Simple breezes in thinning hair.

I am not one of their associates

I am not a corporation

But I am not an outsider like Odysseus,

I am not an open and tumultuous wave,

I will never be a Spaniard resting at midday.

Yet I can come close

In a summation approximately 12 lines long,

A parable, God I need a parable,

A world captured, it is Gabriel.

City Walk

I can walk sentimental streets

Without being ashamed of my smile,

Yes, I can walk with pride

At my being, at my being alive.

The marriage of the breeze with

The perfumes of flowers growing

In between concrete scars

And the gasoline from passing cars

Lingers thoughtlessly in the air.

Still I look down at my steps

Going forward, never missing a beat.

I am in the city now, and it is full,

It never feels constrictive or contrived

No matter how many ads plague the skyline

They are just part of the feature.

My sentimental street is another river to the sea,

A free and open society.

 

*Feedback would be cool!

Winter’s Spirit

Four winters I have seen

With the power to cloud the summers green,

When roses were lost under snow and frost

Like crystal or starlight, white in a dream.

 

A pool around a bright blue eye

Or a jewel hidden in the white of the sky,

A fountain stands untouched by the hands

Of Winter, unable to rest, unable to die.

 

She approaches, pale skin and hair,

A being as harsh as Ice and pure as air;

Unable to bestow her curse of killing snow

On the fountain standing both strong and fair.

 

Nor can she hold back the coming Spring

Who calls for life to grow and birds to sing,

And Winter loses her dominion in the dawn.

Darkness fades, and newly grown, everything.

Golden Hearted Angel

Golden hearted angel I hear your voice

Never still, always reverberating and ringing.

Golden hearted angel I know that you’re singing

You are ageless, forever in a memory.

 

Heaven knows we all wish you were here,

But we have your words and your songs.

Golden hearted angel you will never be gone,

We have you locked in an eternal melody.

 

R.I.P Chris Cornell

Churchyard in Padstow

I left behind idle time

Once I entered the churchyard in Padstow

Silent and alone.

No names written on the weathered graves,

No choir in the church

Yet songs ran free from budding trees,

Songbirds in their morbid sanctuary.

One gate leads to the path towards the sea,

The other into woodland

Nightly shaded even in the day.

This is peace in harmonious decay.