unseasonable

fragmented moment
bright sun for once does not lie
warmer the morning

mariners chanting
far distant those seas are now
evening coming

seeing is believing

and afterwards what was there left to say
the job's being done that's all that we can see
someone has found the long-forgotten way
and down swift rivers come at last to sea
almost it fills our mouths a sensible taste
of all that we have sought all that we desire
a voice though warns against too-urgent haste
but hopes will rise from even the smallest fire
beginnings are like this though much is still to do
we sense the ending distant in the mist
we long for the last nail to be driven through
believe that obstacles will fall if we just insist
as long as there is sun and days are warm
we'll hope that our wishes receive concrete form

frame up

the hidden flowers do not give forth a smell
but that means nothing as they're out of season
behind there's a small swamp and shallow well
they're there i do believe for a good reason
the stand of trees softens the evening sun
but this is noontime and there is no shade
we've come here at the trot on urgent run
our joy's unbounded has not yet time to fade
the concrete's coloured with the marks of rain
but nothing signifies even the shallow marks
we're promised now swift ending to this pain
at last we can now say enthusiasm sparks
the signal the message the overwhelming trope
is that this week we've finally some hope

maidenly plaint

the singer's voice is smooth as cherry cream
it draws me in as i sit down to write
life for this moment is no more than a dream

the music sounds like light upon a stream
illuminating for a while the deep of night
the singer's voice is smooth as cherry cream

the silence of the pauses is i come to deem
like a small cloud that softens the sunlight
life for this moment is no more than a dream

the distant concert hall's in my mind's eye i seem
transported across time's immense bight
the singer's voice is smooth as cherry cream

i visualise candles in their most gentle gleam
i see an image of shining truth and right
life for this moment is no more than a dream

what the words are matters no more than steam
arising from dawn river woken by the light
the singer's voice is smooth as cherry cream
life for this moment is no more than a dream

bypaths of memory

nineteen seventy five was the year that life began
i was nineteen naive and living away from home
no idea that i was going to be a footnote of a man
wondering where on earth i'd go with only a poem
for heritage fearful of all those new things
i'd only read about false sophisticate really rustic
glad at least to be finally of the leading-strings
with odd bits of knowledge brittle and dry like fustic
but there i was never so scared in all my life
wondering where i'd sit in the large lecture-hall
the lady who smiled was the prime minister's wife
but i did not realise that i was blank as a wall
this might appeal i'd say to those of an odd humour
but i can look at myself and laugh or that's the rumour