A father of a son
Wonderful to see
A person that look just like me
On the day he was born
Where promises
I vowed to keep

Truth and honor
Are the only drugs
He will see

I am the father of a son
His teacher of a life complete
Sometimes I take for granted
The quiet conversations in things that he needs

Questions about life
Questions about dreams
I reply you are my son be all that you can be
When you become a father
Truth and honor
Will always give you peace

Perchance have we met
perhaps on another ethereal plain

your voice I remember
but the face is not the same

Per chance have we met
in another world afar
I remember the voice
but know not who you are

in soft vibrations humming
I hear your voice whisper in the
overhead wires
the sound is the same
but the image will not remain

who then are you and where are you now
I remember the voice
yet images escape somehow

Voices I knew,seem to ring true
images blur to what we once were

I have all along been sitting and glossing
under an apple tree all my life
what happiness can be

a simple comparison of combined incidents
many jovial
few sorry

from the milk of both
if you can but extract
the elixir of glee
‘twill a successful story be
of merriment truly

yes ‘tis poetry alone
as it lends paradise
but lets me be full of gladness
to share here my story

you say what you want to
but be merry
not guilty

one must simply be cheerful
just smile will all ye

i have seen a tiny boy with insomnia and pain
stand with an autstralian man who put his hands
behind that tiny bent racked back a few inches away
and i have heard the boy laugh and shout out loud
"i feel a force" then sleep through the night and play all day

i have heard a hindu man tell his people
"if you kill the parents of a muslim child
take that child into or home raise him in his faith
treat him as your own"

Stress takes its toll
work - life
balance going up in

smoke

relaxation
a necessary part of life
we find little
epiphanies

trappings of responsibility
discarded in favour
of me time
repose re centering

As I peer into the mirror
of a different world
my shoulders relax

I breath deep
and visualise
the cold roughness

of stone on my back
the smell of Virginia
and pollution tinging
the air

What does nineteen sixty nine mean to you?
The last dying tremor of the swinging sixties,
Woodstock and free love, groovy baby,
Empty-headed teenagers and wasted hippies
Dancing in the fading glimmer of their youth,
Painted, cracked beads perished in the sun.

But for the cold calculating stare
of electric blue orbs
lightening flashing through them
you would think it human

Others blind their eyes
and deafen their ears
when in her presence

Faint whirs and clicking
are the only clue
that she no longer lives

Once filled with life's passion
flowing through every vein
the sole giving of all
to flora,fauna and mankind

soft murmuring voices
not unlike that of an old party line
once gave comfort

Election won by
Naked manipulation by the rightwing media,
Greedy Tories under the scumbag toad
Lying Boris Johnson;
And after Brexit
Now England's going down the
Drain. Well done, moronic electorate

Lovely seasons we all love
and
kids also all above

somehow season can never win
with loveliest kith and kin

dream not of the days gone
cold youth has passed like dawn

hope for a sunnier tomorrow
ere comes autumn again
be in Rome or Spain
but

healthy always one must remain
ever in hopes
alive live till end
again and again

Live in Hope