sunny interlude

silent choir of vultures on the church roof
watching at noon as i walk down the drive
they cast a pall of fear though i'm alive
their gaze is bitter it demands real proof
i'm not the next meal passing on the hoof
under that stare i falter still i will deprive
these carrion fowl of satisfaction i'll survive
their frightening eyes from them i am aloof
under the mango tree's shade i pause and sigh
not simply in relief but with a kind of fear
that there's a message in these watching birds
but i'm no little boy there's no reason to cry
and on my face is sweat but not a tear
it takes a long time to find the right words

tropical wave

when it has ended and the ground's still wet
you come out of the house and look around
the air is fresh the earth green with regret

for three whole days of worry and of fret
you've wondered at what would at last be found
when it has ended and the ground's still wet

those who know immoderation's a real threat
are heartened that we're all still safe and sound
the air is fresh the earth green with regret

the order of things seemed confusing and upset
but now with sunshine all's ready to rebound
when it has ended and the ground's still wet

it's easy in this peaceful moment to forget
the stillness has a meaning more profound
the air is fresh the earth green with regret

there's lots of work to do that's a safe bet
now that it's clear the world has not been drowned
the air is fresh the earth green with regret
when it has ended and the ground's still wet

a winter night

when the day comes will i know where to go
or will i be as lost as when night fell
it's bloody hard at this late hour to tell
and everything now seems to move so slow
as if the night were waiting for a blow
to wake it or to send it straight to hell
the punishment due to all those who rebel
against the will of them that do not know
masters of what fate or what will tempt
to act and not to wait for the event
those who though pliant will not just obey
will not decide to provoke or to pre-empt
instead will force the camel from the tent
and demand that fools just get out of the way

where journeys end

each journey has its stages first the plains
a little bland perhaps but still secure
certain of their ways but not cocksure
their songs are steady soft are the refrains
and then the mountains mothers of the rains
in sunlight their mass appears to reassure
but winter comes and away goes their lure
and you wonder what became of all your brains
now here's a lake with waters broad and deep
fed by sweet rivers and with outlet clear
a place where all turmoils and conflicts cease
away from both the flat and stony steep
to those who know its beauty very dear
the site at last of joy and calm and peace