The Lost Symphony

On a wind-swept beach

at 10am

the sun has gone away

tired of pleasing

the holiday crowds

gathered

for their annual stay.

Mostly children

find their way

to the beach

it’s never too cold

to explore 

they play in the sand

watch the waves

as they pound

the rain-drenched

lonely shore.

But their stay is brief

and they disappear

enticed

by a distant chant

promising sunshine

tomorrow

the reason

for setting up camp 

and the symphony

scored

for the stormy day

played by the rain

wind and sea

is lost in time

to the children

who now wait

expectantly …

Monolith

The markings

on this ancient thing

mesmerise me

and exhort me

to challenge

archaic ways

that condemn

pristine places

to dark

and desolate

hell holes

landscaped

with promises

of a greater good

by truly greedy people.

Sixty Four Today

He wonders aloud

where the years 

have gone 

we all do

but years 

are no measure

of a life, rather

it’s the moments lived

each one precious

each one a lifetime

each one played out

in the now

unshackled

by the doctrines

of time.

Day is Done

It’s that time of day

when your work is done

and the sun is going down

a drink in your hand

and the radio on

a pleasing steady hum 

thoughts are nowhere special

just moving along with the breeze

it’s that time of day

when life makes sense  

a moment

to let the world breathe …

By the Sea

Fingers of foam

reach into my mind

to wash away

the residue

of discontent

that stains me.

Letter to the Editor

It was only just

the other day 

I planned to write  

you a letter 

something to do 

with the state 

of the world 

and how to

make it better 

but I forgot 

and so did a lot 

of others I suspect 

for this morning 

the world 

suddenly stopped 

along with my hopes 

for the best.

Wondering

When death 

grabs me

I wonder

if I’ll struggle

or relax

enfolded

in its arms

as I’m carried

through

my memories

to

the end.

Kiama Pines

  I sat upon

a picnic table

looking out to sea

while all around

giant Norfolk pines

hovered over me -

like stairs to heaven

they called me up,

the prize

the stars

that sat on top,

out of reach

they promised much

like that

evening star

Magis trekked

to touch

so long ago

in Bethlehem.

Welcome

Welcome to My Life, My Poems.

When the world moves me I need to express myself in words that paint pictures in my mind.

In this blog I wish to share these pictures in poems.