Full Circle


Undulating, curving slow,

Skirting peat banks thick with reed,

The road uncoils to where I know

Though I know not where it may lead.


Where the stone gives way to Sea

I’m cradled gently through the brine,

Then birthed ashore where I was me

Two lifetimes meet their parting line.


To cross one way and not return

Forever leaves the pathway broke,

To read a book yet not to learn

Steals from its pages wisdom spoke.


Often not by purposed step

We find ourselves from where we came,

An accident without regret

Full circle, brings us home again.

The Painting of a War


Every frame through narrowed sight

The edges blur to indistinct,

So honed the thought, so free of light

A moment’s life, then life extinct.


A breath released, the action spent

The snapshot fused upon a mind,

A palette’s hue cannot relent

The vivid bleed its colours find


Then shuffling through the silent rooms

Wall on wall the canvas stained,

Memories brushed like smoking plumes

That rose to leave yet still remained.


As if waiting for The Echo


Angels know a Million things The Coded Genes that fix their Wings,

Devils know a Thousand Lands Of Poison Tongues and Idle Hands.


Knowing’s not the thing to fear when Thunders far there’s Lightening near,

The Reapers Scythe lurks in the gaps between the Contours of our Maps.


After Smiles and Shaken Hands Serpents loose their Bloody Plans,

While Dogs of War attend their Wounds Havoc Slips to Rage too soon.


There’s no-one Guarding at the Gates where Saints and Sinners Congregate,

They’re Far to busy Preaching Hate to recognize their Brain Washed State.


As Word on Word the Pulpits Fall into their Pits go One and All,

Their Little Voices Hollowed out no matter how they Scream and Shout