SAMHAIN

Hecate told me in my sleep
to draw a circle round the past
with candles fragrancing cold air.
So widdershins, I chanted peace
and comfort to the '60s child
(the one I swear who looked like me).
In pink clouds learned to laugh at tears.
Black velvet cat,familiar now,
unblinking all the while.
So mote it be.

LOST FOR WORDS

The poem you are reading now
was stolen by a man of fewer words than this,
who made it all sound very grand
in many ways that I could not.
And so the audience ate the lines,
my own words dying in the wings
to be the poem you are reading now.

SINGLE MOTHER

When he drop kicked the hen through the open door
she squarked and soared in unplanned flight.
On yellow legs she ran to the barn
and crooned contentedly with her lot
to shuffle above the next generation.

HOUSEBOUND

Here next door to the village gossip
it's the kiss of death.
Admirably acute detection skills
employed in blasting speed of light inflations
on garden fence hotlines,scorching songbirds' feet.
...."Him at number three bought some bananas this morning",it's reported.
My life is not enhanced beyond recognition upon receipt.
yet I dare not venture out in my new shoes
for fear that I'll be making headline news.

LIGHTS,CAMERA, AUTUMN.

Bring on the dusky moodiness
of raging rain and crisp cool air.
Crackling leaves in swirling winds
extinguish heat and summer noise.
Bring naked autumn to the centre stage
to improvise dramatic scripts
then wrap for winter.

BY HIS OWN HAND

The guilt, the fear,the anger, the pride
that eats us up from the inside.
Why,how ,when,where and what?
Perhaps there was a detail that we all forgot.
If only this,if only that...
Why didn't he tell us where he's at?
No sleep,no food for those who wait
at the mercy of the hand of fate.
And when they came and told us that the man was dead,
I realised that you cannot live inside anothers' head.