Tag Archives: mortality

My Shirt Blows

My shirt blows
In the morning air.
My thought goes
To where
Girls with long tresses
In summer dresses
The bare.

Lad and lass
Will pass
But I have all this today.


Standing At My Window

Standing at my window
Reluctant to go
For I know
Not how long I shall be here.

Not quite half-way through the year.
May is love and birds
And erratic words
That fall
As the passing sunlight upon my wall.

Tomorrow will come (probably for me)
And I shall see
The sun’s rays fall
Upon this wall
But I know not
What tomorrow has in store …

The Afternoon Sun Will Soon Be Done

The afternoon sun
Will soon be done
And each bird that does sing
Will fold it’s wing
In sleep.

Why do I keep
Indoors and maintain
This sad refrain?

All will pass,
Lad and lass,
But until then
There is ink in my pen
And I trust sufficient time
For more than mere rhyme.

A Flower Found Within A Book

Shall I compose a poem about a blood red
Poppy that I discovered in a book,
And how I took
It dead
From within the grieving leaves?

Shall I say
How, yesterday
I placed that flower
In a carved
Box where it will languish, love starved
For countless hour?

The book I had when we met.
I forget
Why the flower (paper thin)
Was there with it’s sharp pin
Still intact.

I remember the fact
Of you and me
Buying part
Of a once living tree.
Each heart
Is dying or dead


My poem, “Leaves Blown At Night”, came to me as I walked with my guide dog, Trigger, on a December evening in Liverpool. The leaves blowing around my feet reminded me of the fleetingness of things and, in particular my own mortality