What Friends Are For


This rut …….crowds our senses,

Blocks our view of life!

And, we cannot see.

We are blind – to the light of laughter,

We cannot smell love,

We don’t touch happiness,

We forget how to hear smiles,

Do you remember the taste of freedom?

Blow your senses!

Like snot from your

Clogged nose.

Spit the gwell

From your sick lungs,

And come with me.

I have a cottage by the shore.

Sweet herbs grow there,

Wild sea cleanses stone

And the wind lifts the sand

While the mist settles.

Come and talk with me,

Share a glass of wine

Beside the cosy fire,

And……… let’s remember

The way life should be.



DSC_5616I enter into decayed light,

Tread on ancient stone,
Where restless souls
Whisper through wooden pews,
And angels flight
Is suspended in granite.
Blessings stream
From haloed saints,
As the sun shines
Through olde glass –
A relic of devoted hands
And biblical times.
Ahead the alter beckons
My heavy heart
To rid itself of sorrow,
While sombre music
Makes the cherubs weep.
Despair overflows
And rages within,
As I kneel to pray –
Father forgive me………..

For I have sinned.



I search in secret places,

Hoping to find comfort for my tortured soul,

Wanting to find the breathless feeling

Of giving my heart in abandon,

Wanting to share intimate touches,

A caress,

Without a ghost of years gone by

That haunts me so.

I have searched in dark places,

Where men prowl the night.

But find only loneliness

In the empty space which is still warm,

From a strangers body next to mine.

While dawn breaks


From the top of a hill, I see a valley below,
A wave of shimmering orange aglow.
I smell the warmth and dust on the breeze,
And hear the world start to settle, so at ease.
Fish eagles cry, as dusk is to fall,
A feint wind lifts the leaves to rustle, and all
The Night jars start their saddest song.
In my heart, this is where I belong.
Bats dart around, the bush babies wake,
Frogs are out courting, strange noise they make.
Far away a lion roars, like a distant thunder,
Coming closer, ready to plunder
The stars are bright now, the full moon glowing,
Her soft silver light looks like a river flowing.
The wise old owl, hoots in the night
Enough to give all the field mice such a fright.
My fire crackles, a jackal gives a mournful cry,
Hyena’s laugh, its time to die.
Night Jars sing their saddest song,
In my heart, this is where I belong.