clearing my desk

clear cloudless blue the covering of the sky
polished and bright on this winter day
the sparkle of the fountain across the way
the breeze is soft a solitary bird goes by
there's too much on my plate i cannot try
each single taste of work or even play
this has been home but now i cannot stay
there's lack of tears i do not want to cry
i stare at the brown leaves against the blue
at the bare branches and the evergreens
and flowing water shining in the sun
what's here is going from us that is true
we'll feast our eyes on other pleasant scenes
it's time to go though never time to run

the season's hinge

i look southwest and do not see my goal
there's nothing here to keep us any more
the ground upon which we shall stand is whole

the horse that races now was once a foal
could barely make it through the stable door
i look southwest and do not see my goal

the sky is blank today no clouds will roll
no rains will from above upon us pour
the ground upon which we shall stand is whole

the singing birds have not ceased their patrol
we feel there's still some soundness at the core
i look southwest and do not see my goal

beyond this moment who shall have control
that is the question for who knows the score
the ground upon which we shall stand is whole

it's almost the due time we've given our parole
matters return to the pattern of before
i look southwest and do not see my goal
the ground upon which we shall stand is whole

listening to beethoven

now here we find the music straight and pure
across the cables and through space it flows
in manner certain and with method sure
i visualise the musicians in their neat rows
the string players as a mass moving their bows
behind the horns and woodwinds play their part
this is the composer's and conductor's noble art
no halt or hesitation no coughs to mar the sound
in my mind's eye i watch trained fingers dart
from simplest action comes what's most profound

if in some dank dungeon you would me immure
i could with music the darkest spirits oppose
though i've never learned to read the partiture
on each days journey driven from desired repose
the sound in my head's divine almost it glows
it bears me through the workplace and the mart
and when it ends once more i make it start
the tireless players return for one more round
in tiniest package whole orchestras i cart
from simplest action comes what's most profound

though some may carp this music will endure
long after we've left the concerts and shows
snug in our brains in comfort most secure
we know its pleasures even in the final throes
of pain and torment it's the sound that goes
straight and direct to lodge within the heart
although life deals us strokes that burn and smart
the thought of music will all fears confound
we'll find hope and consolation on the chart
from simplest action comes what's most profound

prince in not many hours we will this place depart
not for the sake of music nor yet for the upstart
cacophonies that in these dull days abound
to other ears our words and thoughts impart
and all this melody we'll soon again restart
from simplest action comes what's most profound

listening to the birds

tell us that there's nothing that has no name
and we'll look for a thing that will confound
what we've been told nothing square or round
exists that we won't at once seek to tame
to our small purposes we're beings without shame
knock us and we'll hit you on the rebound
what's hidden we'll dig up and say we found
it fresh and new life's just a long long game
as far as we're concerned and what else should
we do but play it unless we want to choose
not life but emptiness and early to the grave
but that's not our bag and even if we could
give up that easily we never really seek to lose
and even the coward will claim that he is brave

a perfect aerial hue

in time the colours will not seem so bland
lines in the planking indicate what's true
the tools we need come easily to hand

it doesn't matter if we don't understand
the smoke that rises from the hidden flue
in time the colours will not seem so bland

words serve uneasy waiting my command
yet when they're wanted i find the symbols due
the tools we need come easily to hand

the things that happen are not always planned
there's always an element calls for review
in time the colours will not seem so bland

true meanings will be hidden if not banned
for who knows what new traumas will ensue
the tools we need come easily to hand

the secrets that are told throughout the land
are of long standing there is nothing new
in time the colours will not seem so bland
the tools we need come easily to hand

shock of the moment

on wall wolf shadow
heart leaps before seeing truth
a broom and plant pots

swift are tiny birds
on and off the porch they flit
above others sing

pale blue the vision
nature smiles at the soft breeze
evergreens dancing

signal of the spring
the tender buds that appear
on stark bare branches