Full Circle


Footsteps in the sand
of memories made
along the tide
gone awash with surfs white
all that I made long gone
the sea throws back at me
a shell of a being that remains

Detest the feign
of promises never kept
Pray give me eyes
to fetch beauty in that

The soul of the made
is not its keep
The elixir slipped by
in making and letting go
The end, with nothing anew


Love at Work

Busy as I ploughed on for the day..
It was like the beginning
of life in the life of me
I saw her go past me
slender and graceful
she pranced along
to her daily keep
farther down the hill

Leaving me dizzy
the whiff of her sweetness
I waited by the window to
see her face again
wont she ever keep her time
teasing me with moments
slipping by more than the last

Until the day she smiled at me
drawn to the lovelorn in me
She would arrive formerly
glance at me with a luscious smile
but hurried past away
for the dread of duty
but she’d come again
only twenty two of
a thousand moments

A rendezvous brief as a moment
of melting into one
and she goes again
I hold on strong
for before long
she’d come to me again
only to be gone
to make the world go round

…does the minute hand love the hour hand as much as her duty?

I found home

wispy thoughts blowing
along the winds
turbulent and whimsical
way away far far from home

sleeping flurry
dread in the deep woods
no road to return
scurry stall scurry stall

dreary and dark
a writhing pall
fluttering flap to hold
on to joy

of forever came the moment
found me heaven home
lasted a moment lives for life
the time frequency resonance entwined

For Sunday Scribblings prompt, ‘Moment’

Surging Verve

Was a cool stream
meandering on my happy way
pulled back in a pan
Boiled burned changed
to steam,
to steam again?
Did I cross this bend before?
Maybe not,
Bends are always curvy
Hard and pretty
the same way
Bustle on,
Making my way..

a steady pier

Be sought for
not feigned by beg instead

Command the charge
not for forced on, scampered

Dither, owned askance
not belonged herewith

Enduringly be cherished
not tied entwined

Fastened to belief
no shadows hanging

Ground steadfast pier,
stride afoot from

penance for truth

The ‘rightful’ thing to do
I m aware
of choices on spur,
for duress’ sake

A retreat from ‘truth’
to seek shelter under
The truth that I see

The understanding is fleeting
transient feelings pushing it to heights
so big that it challenges reality

I relent and flow onto
further with the truth of the moment

the ‘rightful’ far left behind
for the gust of the whim is strong
the truth of the moment
dwarfs the rule, the exception
the rightful, and its ties

the moment, the life
owned by now,

years of the past
surmised by a moment
into now
of a prick precipice

– penance to severance
pain a sign of decay, gives way to the new a fresh beginning. At times, though, the scars do not go away

listening to Nee Nenaindal while I write this. I do not understand the words but it sets a reflective mood.


I am a compulsive leisure seeker. I like to stop; observe and absorb. In times of rush and race, leisure is draped to look like a guilt ridden escape. But its a retreat to your own being or some new experience emanating from an unusual observation..an expedient to a creative realisation or a new awareness..
similar sentiments by a well known Welsh poet:

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

– William Henry Davies