My heart was a-flutter, my breath shallow, short

My clay-covered hands trembled slight at the thought

Yet I knew I must do what I knew that I ought

For the girl close there at my side

My throat was bone-dry, my lips cracked and parched

Tight like a high collar, crisp, clean and starched

Poised like a cat’s back, tense and full-arched

For the girl close there at my side

Deep in my chest my heart beat like a hammer

Shouting loud in the silence, all of a clamour

I could find so few words, I was all of a stammer

With the girl close there at my side

Summoning up courage from an inner reserve

Though my voice lost all fervour, zeal, zest and nerve

My hand found that just as it had deserved

The girl close there at my side

And I smiled with a glow that started within

Spreading out like a sunbeam, wide like my grin

Knowing that here was the birth of new kin

With the girl close there at my side

A love that grew stronger with each passing day

Flowing into the years we have shared, come what may

Standing back now I smile, and love still I can say

The girl close there at my side

‘Most thirty-five years we’ve shared now, us two

Seen four lovely children as to adults they grew

And the love that I found still seems just as new

For the girl close there at my side





I’m sure you’d look better with a smile on your face

I thought of the man on the train

As the effort he was giving to his sallow demeanour

Was evident in his eyes by the strain

Of course I knew nothing of from whence he had come

Or of what he had left back at home

All I could see was the outward expression

Of a man looking sad and alone

And the effort is wearing to frown, I am told

It is easier by far to smile

What a change one can give to the world all at once

With a happy face once in a while

There’s a saying that goes, if I remember it right

‘To catch someone doing good’

So easy to chide, to point out the faults

Than to be nice every day, as we should

So I was wondering how I could find a way

To pass some of this happiness on

When an abrupt interruption to my reverie

Filled my heart in an instant with song

For the self-same man was now all of a smile

And it had changed him utterly

For I’d caught a glimpse of my grim reflection

And realised that the man was me!


Trelay (Farm of flat stone)

Fields of green, the turning leaves

The yellows, browns and gold

Far rolling hills, a granite soil

Safe refuge from the cold

Peaceful the silence, tranquility

Just birdsong from the trees

As a watery autumn sunshines melds

With just the whisper of a breeze

The sea just over the line of the hill

The village, just a short walk away

Such a wonderful place to be peaceful and calm

Here at the cottage, Trelay






Sunrise over a sea-mist evening
Summer’s soft call now
The heat of day slip-slides away
Cool now upon my brow
Golden painted water glistens
And seagulls on the wing
Hover lazy, almost sleeping
As evening songbirds sing
This is a picture dreams are made of
Contented smiles attest
All one could hope for and as I am here
I am a man who’s blessed.



In my hand I have a secret

It is very hard to see

But if you look quite closely

And you listen hard to me

And you’re very, very quiet

And you set your mind quite free

I believe that maybe you will

See what the secret’s meant to be

In my hand I have a secret

It is small and very fine

And it’s absolutely true to say

That it is uniquely mine

But if you really concentrate

And are prepared to tow the line

I believe that you may share it

Assuming there’s the time

In my hand I have a secret

Have you yet guessed its disguise?

Have you seen between my fingers?

Have you peered at what’s inside?

Because if you’re really clever

And cunning yes, and wise

I believe that you may know the truth

Before the secret dies.






Lurking fog and drizzle falling, the sea a greyish green

Waves like monstrous ogres rising tossed by winter winds unseen

Alone on dampened shingle, the taste of salt upon my lips

Braced against the ocean’s vigour, gazing out to windward ships

I am the only audience for this winter serenade

A symphony composed for one, perfect and uniquely made

For the sea’s cacophony is splendid, a sound I cherish as my own

It is to me triumphant music, wave cymbal crash and wind song moan

Rhythm dragged across the shingle, drumbeat on the wooden groyne

Turns the staid and older man back to the winsome boy

Enraptured there I listen as the music builds and plays

My heart a-flutter, eyes for tears, a glorious malaise

And as the white surf retreats away, tumultuous applauds

Along with cries ‘Encore! Encore!’ as I hanker after more.


Dreamy (Footbridge leaning)

(9) footbridge (2002)

On the footbridge, leaning

Tide low on the ebb, water slow

Seagulls lazy, playfully flitting

Low over the sinking river

Whilst over the hills in the west

The golden sun waves farewell

It is a smile I am thinking now

But soon a tear trickles

Meets the curl of my lips. so you can see

That this is joy I am feeling

Waving, I whisper a ‘Thank You’

Knowing well that I will know

This warming pleasure again tomorrow

It is a short farewell; a brief passing

And I am so thankful –

A kiss at sunset with salt in the air.



So what if he should simply fade away?

What if that seldom smile

Caught up with the man who rarely wore it

And hid him away from the world?

Would an eyelid bat or a shoulder shrug

Would a thought in passing spare?

Hardly! For, in an eyes down world

We stand alone in every crowd.

Silent against a wall of sound we walk

And, bereft of thought save that for self

See only what we want to see

Hear what we shall hear and close our minds.


Belonging to June

March found me lost and wandering

For I belong to June

Never could understand the winter’s chill

Will it be summer soon?

In winter’s coat I am a sleeping person

Yet with warmth I come alive

Moribund the slumber slows me

Yet the sun brings zest and drive

Today my palette is monochromatic

But yesterday colour crept

And instead of icy tears it was

Again with joy I wept


Ever there

Hidden there in your moving green and grey I can still seed your missing smile

And braced against the blasting salt-sting I know that calm will still return a while

You change but, closing my eyes and breathing in familiar taste,

I see those sultry simmer days hidden ‘neath this winter waste.

Losing myself in your expression it changes, but that matters not to me

Fickle it may be but a promise there reminds me of what you are, the sea.






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