THE GARDEN AT 2AM

 For my late Father, with much love...

Stepping out here into a parallel universe.

My outstretched hands locate an unsettling void

where the cabin should be. At least, it was here -

but now the spikyness of the giant yucca 

is prickling my palms. Familiarity,

I begin to realise, is mostly expectation.

My garden's a foreign language only half understood,

translating indistinct shapes into imaginary monsters:

I ought to know my rose bush, but a shroud

of blurry grey distorts it something menacing.

Only this afternoon it was a mass of yellow blooms

and gradually, now I'm forcing my eyes to adjust to the dark,

I see faint pale orbs appear and then fade -

welcome signposts in this infinite gloom.

And towering above me, the oak tree,

jet black against the moonless sky, many-limbed, half human;

it's gigantic bony claws reaching for me...

old childhood fears once more possess my receptive mind.

Suddenly I need you here beside me

to allay my terror - just as you always did so long ago.

Pulses fear-racing, I call out to you,

firing my earnest entreaty across the unseen veil.

But it's syllables are lost in the mists of time,

are now no more than mere echoes of what once was...

and I miss you.

Oh how I miss you...

HAPPY NEW YEAR  🎉🍾🎈🎁🎇 XXX

AN ORDINARY SUNDAY

An ordinary Sunday in December.

Here I am without an inkling

on a Sunday, thinking it normal.

Here I wait in an endless gap

between wishing and fulfilment.

Here I am, without prophetic sight,

hearing the collective engine roar

while consumed by anticipation.

Here is my Checo, starting fifth on the grid.

Rounding a bend...CRASH!...spinning off.

Now last. My stomach churning.

NO! Oh no!! All hope lost.

I am crushed, not again!

Hang on a minute - where's your faith?

He's good with tyres and at overtaking.

What kind of fan are you

to imagine the worst? LOOK -

he's already fourth from the back!

My Mexican Hero, streaming through the pack - 

he's third now, oh dare I hope?

A ten year wait, already too long.

Willing, hoping, praying that today's his day.

HE'S JUST TAKEN THE LEAD!!

The go go go of adrenaline rush - my heart

in sync with his - pounding.

Oh please Checo, no mistakes now!

Such euphoria. Feeling for him,

willing him on...

THE CHEQUERED FLAG!!

He's done it - he's done it!!!

The sixth of December, twenty-twenty,

in Bahrain...a Sunday

so extraordinary, so spectacular,

that I'll remember for the rest of my life!

YAY!!   🇲🇽🏁🇲🇽🏁🇲🇽🏁🇲🇽🏁🇲🇽🏁🏆🏆🏆

Congrats, Checo, on your first F1 victory!!

Here's hoping for many more next year with your new team, Red Bull 🍀🍀🍀

SEASONS GREETINGS EVERYONE...STAY SAFE AND HAPPY, AND HAVE A WONDERFUL TIME!! XXXXXXX

SENTENCE

That day I travelled to find an answer,

I shook with fear as I sought out

the unfamiliar hospital. Then, when I found it

I stood outside, trying hard to calm my raging nerves.

Inside, a Covid-deserted waiting room,

walls covered in red warning signs: wear a mask,

social distancing.  Soon, a nurse ushered me

into a room that felt like doom.

Cold seeped in from an open window.

I shivered. The Judge was about to pass sentence.

I sat through eternity. In the silence between

I wished myself a million miles away

and not feeling so vulnerable, so flawed, so inferior -

but to be lounging instead in front of the TV

and sipping coffee, buried in scatter cushions; rather

than hearing the term "further investigation" define my future...

Phew, am I glad that is over...for now! 😊

REJECT

The small eyes and large nose -

endurable now as Quasimodo's hump,

loathed until embarrassment gives way

to a kind of resigned acceptance.

God's experiment gone awry:

Spirit of woman incarnated

in flawed form. Self-loathing, insecure,

yet desperately longing to be loved

for what she is inside,

for all she has to give.

Oh if only a kind heart were prized

as highly as outer beauty...

Not to be taken too seriously, guys...just a little fun at my own expense!! Lol

I am taking a short break from blogging, as I have to go to hospital for more, rather invasive 😝, tests.

I hope to "see" you again real soon.

Until then, have a great time, and stay safe and happy! 😊😊 xxxxx

PHOTONS

We are the invisible, the ones you feel

rather than see; no shimmering forms

in the darkness, just pure energy

spiralling around itself within consciousness:

the source of white noise interferences

that send shivers down the spine

and cause such excitement

among paranormal investigators and the curious;

intriguing, destabilising scientific theorem

and established religious dogma.

Until we can prove our existence to you

beyond all shadow of doubt, that we

have survived the transition that you call "death",

we will remain in the shadows - silent

and just beyond your comprehension.

STARDUST

Last night I dreamt of Woodstock:

riding in on Matthew's lyrics 

or, perhaps, their time-honoured echo -

an ecstasy of incense and mud

beneath bare feet;

hunger, thirst; sense of belonging

with half a million minds

united in peace and love;

bodies swaying out of time

to Hippie bands, stoned and elated;

golden flecks of stardust

beneath the blue infinity.

An ocean of tents, souls entwined

within canvas on stony ground

of Yasgur's Farm.

Invisible time traveller

from fifty-one years

in the future - here, but

etheric, ghost-like,

trying hard to push through

time's forbidden barrier.

Born too late, yet

desperate to be part

of the legendary Summer of Love,

where there is no hatred, no greed,

nor any Reaper's curse

of grim pandemic...

Oh God! No!!

Paradise is fading fast

as I'm yanked back into the waking hell

of twenty-first century isolation

and my lockdown prison cell.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIHfuihoz70    Please skip ads to watch!

WINTER BLUES

The trees are stripped bare now

like naked bones picked clean

by the sharp beak of ravenous crow

in winter grown too lean.

Hill and dale are brown and dead

and birds no longer sing.

Of the coming months I'm full of dread,

winter's really not my thing.

North winds shapeshift leaves into devils,

while high above dark clouds

are banking up in rippling levels

as if sombre burial shrouds.

Each blade of grass is turning white

and solid as miniature swords.

Jack Frost's spell with stinging bite

brings a vision of frozen fiords.

What counter-magic can I devise

to banish him far away?

For he's the cause of summer's demise

and I'll make him pay some way.

Those days of bathing in the sun

on sandy beaches are gone,

and staying indoors is much less fun -

oh I feel so put upon!

But in my heart last summer's bees

still hum through the vibrant hues

of bluebells, poppies, roses and peonies...

to ward off these winter blues.