blckbird

Remember those who died
fighting for that
which was not theirs
nor ever would or could.
Weep for those distorted faces
lost ambition and empty chairs.
Then pray for those with more to lose
in khaki clothes riding on the roundabout.
Handsome faces in the fair-ground jostle
candyfloss and rifle range
coconuts, children in surprise
laughing with their mothers;
sweethearts slipping to the night
gazing at the stars.

Still again after the fire works
children snug in bed,parents making love,
embers in the parks and gardens
languid sparks rising to the silent night
homeless mouse and hedgehog......
and those the lucky ones.........
who saw the torches coming.

I heard the blackbird in alarm,
saw him on the topary yew
stretching neck and wings
jerking tail, clock work automation
in the summer garden,so quiet until now.
staccato calls to all who listen
defying,sentinel and un-afraid;
so small and black, a golden beak
your only means to fight,
but enough defence it seems
to scare away the cat,
climbing the ivy wall,
and nestlings safe again.

There was one thing about today
from the start it was predictable
well rehearsed as yesterday
and many days before.
Through trees and stiles
passing from the meadow,
the geese and cattle beside the lake
ignored by Jack and ignoring him.
This is a well tried comedy
practised to a fault,
walking in the rain or sun
often on a Monday
kicking through the winding track
deep in blackening leaves,
rooks restless in the cold east wind,
blue tits in the holly,
gloves and boots and home by dark
as will be tomorrow.

Bought a new phone
a set of two
a station on my desk
you know the way.
The other satelite ?
where the hell to put it
They took seven hours to charge
three weeks to enter all my friends
nearly sent it back
but lost the packaging
made today from corn starch
degradable in three weeks!
my mobile was only half the trouble.
Now I wait for friends to call
not a bell all day
when it rang on Tuesday
didn't recognise the tone
they didn't leave a message
IT could have been the gas
BT or the 'lectric,
someone selling glazing
in dulcet erotic persuasions
I fall for every time.
Going for a walk in Wales this afternoon,
inlaws tonight for supper,
then home and one five seven one
to make it all worthwhile.

What did you do at school
I asked.
Drew the alphabet
she said.
watched her draw her name
with greatest care
in her drawing book;
you must understand her style,
she feels the world as once we did
discards sophistication,
before she even knew it.
the "R" the wrong way round
"K" laid on its back
but all made sense,watching
saw the world as she did;
the drawings on the table
signed in felt nib strokes
reds and blues and why not!

The birch leaves fell like tears,
Autumn weeping for lost summer skies
the balm of evenings lit 'til nine
beer,dogs and childrens'laughter,
climbing moorland trails
paddles in sheep lined streams,
curlew calls,hawk and bleating lambs.
Songs of innocence centuries old.
unscripted,rehearsed each dawn.
Ghosts of summer days invade,
crowd me round my little wood,
guide me through the storm
dry my tears with ecloplasmic veils,
join with Autumn's mourning
as she,soon forget
remembering that tomorrow
was but yesterday.