EVE

Should I, or shouldn't I?
Shall I, or shall I not?
Would it really matter if I did?
Would anyone notice my frailty -
Or even give a damn?

And would I suffer greatly
After the fact?
Or would my life remain unchanged
By the inevitable regret that follows
Such wanton self-indulgence?

What if I blame someone else
For placing temptation before me?
Couldn't be my fault then, could it?
They would be the culprit, not I,
Who instigated the act.

Or should I simply walk away:
Deny myself the option
Of guilty pleasure's frantic fulfilment?
But even then I wouldn't rest,
Would still crave it in my head.

I must have it! You mustn't!!
Oh Gods, what shall I do?
This torment now is killing me.
My mouth is watering - my waistline yells "NO!"
But I, like Eve, am weak...

 

BLACKBIRD WINTER

Photo courtesy of www.birds,deansfamily.com

 

 

 

The Sun is away on vacation.

So Mother Nature rests, tired of giving birth;

While worms enjoy a seasonal reprieve

Beneath the ice-bound earth.

 

Day from night we can only discern

By degrees of grey to black,

And the chill that pervades the darkest part

Brings a fear our bones will crack.

 

Growing weak from constant hunger,

Our half-hearted chorus at dawn

Is little more than a hoarse whisper

As another day is born.

 

Picking among the roots of plants

That are deep in hibernation,

The most fortunate ones of us may find

A morsel to ward off starvation.

 

But there simply isn't enough to go round:

Neither fly nor cricket in sight.

Our empty tummies churn and ache.

For a snail, to the death we'd fight.

 

Thin and desperate we turn to man,

Braving his cats and dogs;

For it's chirped there's bread and seed galore

On his table of pinewood logs.

 

It's true! We see it before our eyes,

Surely this must be a trap?

But the need for this life-saving easy meal

Overrides all fear of mishap.

 

We snatch and gobble, our eyes darting back

And forth should a predator spring.

Now satiated and fully revived,

We gratefully take wing.

 



ASCENSION

He was walking home on Saturday night,
Quite blotto, so thought it best
To leave the car and go on foot;
Not take silly risks like the rest.

But one of them left moments later
Blind drunk, so failed to see
A lone figure stumbling along
The dark country road past a tree.

A bright red flash was all he saw.
He barely felt a thing
As car and tree violently collided
With no more than a muffled ping.

He felt quite dizzy and a little sick
As he staggered to a grassy verge,
Then watched the commotion feeling detached
As two worlds began to merge.

He saw the blood and guts sprayed over
Both bonnet and Oaken limb
And in between the broken body
Of someone who looked like him.

Decidedly uneasy, he drifted across
To the throng who'd gathered around
The impact scene, though their efforts were futile.
Too much red was engulfing the ground.

'What happened?' he asked a bystander grim
Who ignored him. He felt annoyed
So he tried to grab her by the arm,
But his hand encountered a void.

Seriously disturbed, he began to shout,
'WON'T ANYONE SPEAK TO ME?'
But to them, it appeared he'd ceased to exist.
Yet himself he continued to see.

He wandered around in a daze for what could
Be days, weeks, even years.
Long after they'd cleared the carnage away,
He was trapped there alone with his fears.

So in desperation he thought his way home,
To discover the house was packed
With family, friends - everyone was there.
Was this some kind of party in fact?

But he wondered why they all wore black
And deep sadness hung in the air.
He rushed to his wife for comfort, but she
Seemed unaware that he was there.

The frustration he felt was soon cut short
By the arrival of limousines black.
As they all piled in, he squeezed between
His parents in the back.

It was the strangest sensation he'd ever known.
It seemed he was real, they were not.
He could clearly see them, yet couldn't touch
And he felt neither cold nor hot.

At the crematorium he perused the wreaths,
Wondering who had died;
Then found himself thrown deep into shock,
Believing his senses had lied.

For over and over he read his name
And messages from the heart.
How can it be me in that coffin there?
He thought, as his Soul fell apart.

Then sudden dazzling light descended
Through the stained glass window above.
It engulfed him until he could no longer see
Or feel anything but pure love.

Slowly the light formed itself
Into a tunnel that sloped gently up.
And his grandparents came - it seemed quite normal
That they offered him tea from a cup.

As he moved towards them, the cup disappeared
And they shot through the tunnel at speed.
It seemed they neither ran nor flew:
Were more like wind-borne seed.

Euphoria engulfed him at the tunnel's end,
In a garden of celestial hues,
And he recognised at once that he was home:
Had shed all Earthly blues.



 

A NEW YEAR'S WISH

Come, Lady, wheel out your bin
With Christmas refuse packed;
And dare I hope I'll find a card
Tied to it's lid with string?
For that would make my ultimate
New Year's wish come true -
To read hot words written by you
Filled with longing and passion too:
Exclusively for me.

Please feel for me, Lady, as I do for you,
Can't you hear my unspoken plea?
I've worshipped you from afar so long,
Just a glimpse of you, and I
A knight of Arthurian legend become
Seeking that elusive Grail
In the hope it will grant my deepest desire.
Then I'd woo you and win you with clever words
And to Monaco we'd elope.

And our honeymoon would romantic be,
We'd travel the World in style:
Exploring exotic locations by day,
Then after the sunset fades
We'd be making love on a moonlit beach
While crashing waves reflect the silvery
Images of a starry sky.

Your front door opens and you pass me by
Without so much as a glance.
'Morning,' I say to attract your attention,
But you fail to even reply.
It seems a sanitary engineer
Isn't worth the time of day.
But for what it's worth, beautiful Lady,
My humble heart is yours...