The crunch of crisp snow,
white snow,
bright snow,
the crack of twig,
the sharpness of the icicle above,
the weighted load,
its shift,
the swish of skis across the lake,
or through the wood.

The sound of space
so quiet,
stilled
around our beings,
wrapped into the world.

We huddle to keep warm,
we watch the stars be born,
the light of dawn is dimmed,
as the sun journeys on,
on its shortest day,
over the sky, above the grey.

Teacher and schoolgirl ran away
out of the playground he wanted to play
for a long time she was groomed
in his presence, she bloomed

Teachers pet, lots of treats
extra stars and tasty sweets
he boosted her self-esteem
believing she shared his dream

He forgot about his loving wife
thought they would build a new life
he took her away to a hotel
thoughts of their activities, I quell

Namby pamby attitude
I'll be told I'm rude
pandering to criminals need
praising him for his greed
payout by insurance company
because he got hurt doing robbery
something is seriously wrong
victim lashed by judge's tongue
I'll be told I'm being radical
bring in someone practical

Rambling rants of a disturbed mind
genius in his day, one of a kind
fighting against some archenemy
flailing and arguing continuously
family visit heartbroken
in their eyes, no need to be spoken
on a good day he just ignores
their presence, one of his chores
on a bad day swearing and cursing
a painted smile they've been rehearsing
the man they knew is long gone
but in their soul, his memory shone
they keep hoping for a breakthrough
a precious glimpse of the person they knew

whisper to me in dark places,
unshackling my mute form

revive the thousand voices,
I have sustained in a forever
unspoken and formless
so as to be forgotten,
it was in a night-scape,
the void of sound
negated speech

I break into flight,
with an oath choking
on my first cry

I drift on the hair of my nape,
as the weave of my cloth
spirals, for a moment

as gums bleed out
the rhythm in my shade, refrains

A Golden Eagle

I watch as twilight
creeps over the Brothers,
stars re-birth
beckoning over
mountains

a shimmering black mantel
conceals Azimuth,
her seductive ebony lips

slide,
over the lamp

A visage of ivory
looks upon earth, drifting
shadow to shadow
passing as a will-o-wisp
of ebony vistas,

always out of reach

still,
the Horizon
mesmerizes me,
ebony lips and a mantel
of seduction,
rolls with reverence effaced,
Azimuth’s arms await,

Enlisting the charms
of the fire,
in wistful music
I spoke from the lyre

Entrancing the beckoning
to his knees,
this bubbling lust
is slightly freed

A trail of whisper
licks my ear,
drawing me close
to hold me near

Touching a rose
tips the peaks,
a burgeoning lust
is lightly tweaked

Unbuttoning need
in frenzied grasps,
ripping to free
a stubborn clasp

Fumbling fingers
brush and bump,
grinding of hips
begins the thump

FOOTSTEPS IN THE SNOW 
3rd December 2012.

Smooth sheet
stretched between the posts
a silken fabric ready to be disturbed
by nature's bustle
lying silent, white, asleep
so still,
so unperturbed,
existing in its virgin quiet
when no winds blow.

Below the crystals beautiful,
the grass succumbs,
still green,
unseen to grow
the sky that changes
from the indigo of night
is slashed with light
as dawn begins to show
across the plains of Salisbury.

Drifting in slowly, the early morning fog of
love’s heat colliding softly with the chill of emptiness.
The total being wrapped within a deep damp mist.

Thoughts just drunken derelicts bumping
together in the haze, adding nothing but confusion.
Mental compass points obscured.

Loneliness the soul mate now.
The stillness finally shattered by the
silent scream for help that only God can hear.