Tag: Sun

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An August Evening with Amy

What more could I ever want
On an evening such as this
A Blackwater River sun setting 
And the wind now light as a kiss.

Spring here can be magical
With the promise of summer to come
But watery suns threatening autumn
Are much preferred by some.

Pause for a moment with the oars still
And gaze at the lowering sun's glow
We drift briefly on the slack water 
Then turn our bow to go.

Such a simple joy to embrace
Calm, quiet, and sublime
We should do it much more often 
We just need to make the time.


30th August 2013
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Passing the Curlew

May I hear the Curlew as I pass away?
It's been part of my life for so long.
The nesting chortling on the marshes 
has become my favourite song.

If I sit still on the seawall
as the sun fades away to the west.
The bustle across the mud and beach 
is the sound that I love best.

Because the Curlew endures so 
and will always remain
I know their cries will reverberate
within my dying brain.

Old Man

What's your story
Old man?
What have you seen
And done?
Put down that watering can
And sit here in the sun.

Tell me of wars
Old man
Times short of work
And food
Did you serve or work the land
Just did the best you could?

And after that 
Old man
You say you took 
A wife
Had a child but lost her
So ran away from life.

You ran for thirty years
Old man?
And never more saw
Your home?
Do you find this garden
Has cured your need to roam?

Are you happy now
Old man?
Do you hear the
Skylarks song?
Is your soul at peace here
Have your demons gone?

I've heard your story
Old man
So I know what 
To do
If life is cruel to me sometime
I'll get a garden too.

Lollipop Sticks

This frail girl in my lounge was dying
But so grateful now was she
She had made a gift from lollipop sticks
To express her thanks to me.

She had little else to give away 
But with some sticks and glue
She made a gift quite special
Because her dream came true.

Her last wish was a family break 
In the sun of Spain
And this important moment
Would never come again.

Good people of science had tried
To stem her marauding cells
Even took a limb completely
But still her body swells.

A club of generous men paid
For her and hers to fly
To be together on a distant beach
Before she said goodbye.

How very cruel and senseless
For mean gods to steal
A twelve year old young girl's life
A sentence with no appeal.

At least she had had her wish
Which she craved so much
To lay on a beach with her family
and do without the crutch.

She left behind a little house
made from sticks of wood
A reminder of a chance she gave
to me to do some good.

Rosalind Ward RIP

Time

Old clocks have within them
a cog and a dropping pawl
each click of this assembly 
measures time and counts it all.

While the clock rarely varies
and keeps our time on track
the pace of our earlier lives
seems faster looking back.

Our first school, kiss or job
such moments of agony gone
we learnt to ride life's waves
and to go forward, moving on.

And still the clocks keep ticking
as another year goes by
we study, work, marry, while
jealous time wasters don't try.

Some build cathedrals to work
buying homes and keeping fed 
now after years of hard toil
can't enter that place without dread.

Time can make work seem pointless
as the sands in the glass run low
perhaps a seat in the sun is better
letting stress and the worries go.

Tick...….





12th January 2013

	


	



			
				


			

			
Take my Arm
		
	
	

		



I will wait until your winter has gone
Until the pieces fall into place
Until the cold winds are all blown away
And you move on with the sun on your face.

Bad times need only be temporary
If you can call on good friends
They guide you across the furrows and
Ease the load while your hurting mind mends.

Later you will be so much stronger
When new resolve comes to stay
I am here till your springtime comes 
And your winter has gone away.