Friday 29 April 2011


Love is

Wishing on a rainbow,
then passion at first sight.

It's feeling he's a part of you
and trusting him with your life.

It's waiting by the window
for his car, how your pulses race!

It's rushing out into his arms,
and taking him to your bed.

It's a soul-stirring rapturous night
you never want to end.

It's the tender kiss before he leaves,
then a dismal sense of loss.

It's wondering how you'll survive this day
without him.

Sunday 24 April 2011


So, you truly despise me?
How can I tell?
It's simple really.
Probably has something to do
with your hurtful comments
as you pass me in the street.
"F***in' slag" and "Filthy slapper".
Or the fact that I have to remove
your saliva from my clothes and hair
whenever I leave my home.

What is it about me
that so incenses you
until you swear you'll kill me?
I am a female like you,
with thoughts and feelings.
I get spots sometimes
and hormonal mood swings.
But unlike you, I have humanity.
For I could never be as spiteful
as you are to me.

You ridicule the way I dress,
so maybe that's it.
But, surely, if I like to wear
a mini-skirt and corset top
on a warm and sunny day,
how can that be hurting you?
When you're wearing something
that suits you and looks really nice,
I smile and compliment you
and mean it from the heart.

Perhaps my long blonde hair offends you,
as you've often threatened to tear it out!
Is it that yours is brittle and damaged
and fails to reach your waist;
and in spite of the many potions you've tried,
it never quite shines like mine?
Well I decided long ago
to stop using dryer and tongs.
My secrets are yours, you've only to ask.
But I guess that would be beneath you.

My make-up, too, is often the butt
of crude derisive jeers.
So what if I like the sultry look
of smoky eyes and scarlet lips?
A few cosmetics have always been
an asset to our gender.
They bring our natural beauty alive
and are fun to choose and combine.
So why not lose your perpetual scowl,
apply some colour and try a smile?

So your boyfriend looked at me?
It's really no big deal.
Mine has eyed up every girl
who ever passed him by.
It doesn't mean they've tired of us,
it's just a thing men do.
Compare it to a shopping trip.
Although you've bought the perfect dress,
that stunning designer one-off,
don't you still love to window shop?

Now don't you think it must be time
to learn to live and let live?
To threats and insults I'm immune,
so you're only degrading yourself.
You'll never suppress the person I am,
nor my Bohemian sense of dress.
Still, I hope through your life self-esteem you'll find,
then your misplaced jealousy
will burn itself out and disappear
to leave you as free as me!

Sunday 17 April 2011


Lazing in this old frame tent
on a sultry April noon,
drifting mentally, watching
faded canvas the colour of pale sun
rippling gently in a spring breeze,
shaping visions, absurdly out of time,
evoking bitter-sweet memories
of days long-gone.

In a deep Welsh valley ages ago,
midnight thunder crashing overhead,
lightening strobe-like
casting stark, darting shadows
of lovers writhing
onto yellow fabric walls.
An intense moment of rapture
amid tedium of endless exams.

'Quick!' You called me to the door.
There, I saw a glowing ball
of electricity bounce across the field.
Then the sky burst open
and a flaming fork
sliced in two a mighty oak.
I wept, a decision finalised.
It seemed to me an omen.

You held me then
so close I felt your heart
still pounding from our love
(or had you read my thoughts)?
Misunderstanding, you whispered
'It's OK, I'll love you all my life!'
Squirming with guilt, I pulled away.
Two weeks later I had gone.

I suppose I should've left a note,
but how could I admit
to casting aside my first real love
on an egocentric whim?
A heavenly face and seductive words
had filled a naive head
with erotic needs and fantasies
I simply had to fulfil.

Soon his long-suffering wife
made her presence felt.
With cheekbone bruised and ego flat
I crawled back home to you.
But, alas, I found you'd gone away,
so I sat on the step and cried.
Then brief encounters became my life
for none compared to you.

Now many long years have passed
since last I saw your face.
Time has stolen our tender love
and faded youthful dreams.
Like an ancient photo in monochrome,
they've turned a ghostly grey;
and hormonal rush of first love
is lost to me today.

Yet, lying here now in this old tent,
I can almost, nearly touch
your time-honoured phantom rising
from the shadows, a promise fulfilled.
Adrenaline's pumping, senses acute,
you're so near I can feel your breath;
and long flowing curls caress my face
as you bend to kiss me again.

A car horn blasts, and you've disappeared
as abruptly as you came.
Watery cloud engulfs the sun
and I suddenly feel alone.
An urge to move on drives me inside
where, armed with coffee cup,
I snuggle under the duvet
to watch a movie I love.

Sunday 10 April 2011


I wish you were here with me now in this magical place, as words and pictures alone will never adequately describe the sense of peace and tranquillity that permeates every tree, each stone in this river bed.
Here, is an authentic taste of the Celtic Other world, characteristically nestling below bleak moorland hills and enclosed within dense forest.
As you wander through the thick carpet of regal bluebells, a kingfisher suddenly appears, to guide you to an ancient ruined Hermit's Cell you would otherwise have overlooked, for it is totally obscured from casual observers by thick impenetrable undergrowth.
An awe-inspiring impression of natural religion and nature mysticism penetrates deep into your Soul here. You have reached the very heart of the Celtic Spirit.

As you descend the precipitous crumbling steps beyond the newer hermitage, you are struck by the disturbing notion that if you continue your journey you may never be able to return to the ordinary world again. But you decide to take the risk anyway. Then, at one more turn of the spiral you catch your first glimpse of the hidden waterfall, whose fairy-music you've heard since leaving the main path.
The crystal clear, sparkling water issues from the rock-wall of a ravine to cascade some 10 metres down into a natural stone basin below.
This was an important site of initiation for the ancient Druids, and its trans formative power is active still.

So if someday you are fortunate enough to inadvertently stumble upon this Sacred Shrine, dare to drink of these waters ONLY if you are seeking true enlightenment, for this is a genuine gateway to the Way of Merlyn
and your life will never be the same again!

Sunday 3 April 2011


In memory of Peter Huggins (aka Jeremy Brett). A bi-polar sufferer, he was deeply affected by his role of Sherlock Holmes.

'Please no more......I just can't do it anymore!'
Cowering, sobbing, pleading, falling to my knees.
Tall, black-clad before me, merciless, soulless eyes
staring out through darkened glass.
'But you are mine now, for all eternity!'
Mocking laughter echoes through tortured mind.
Covering my ears, staring at the pavement.
An ant scurrying by, carrying its dead,
or is it my Soul?

Seized by sudden panic.
Running, faster, faster, FASTER.
Far away, tyres screech, horns blast.
Barely aware - MUST out-fox him.
At last! Sanctuary - anonymity of Sacred Common.
Knowing she's there, desperately seeking
the comfort only she can bring.
Soon, passionately hugging face to bark,
my beloved tree.

Senses merging, limbs entwined,
cool leaves through trembling fingers slide,
ancient wisdom, taking root in human mind,
'Be still....relax....sleep....'
Dazzling flash, sudden deluge,
splatters through panoply of green.
Almighty rumble underground
as Heaven and earth collide.
Petrified, I bury my face
deeper into her.

Drenched to the skin, I'm falling,
endlessly,endlessly falling
to the depths of Reichenbach Falls.
Locked together in deadly embrace,
wrestling Moriarty for my life,
until sudden glimpse of haggard face
chills me to the bone.
Scarcely able to comprehend.....
it's not Moriarty, it's HIM!

Screaming in terror.
Leaping up, gasping for breath.
Haunted eyes dart back and forth
seeking the loathsome form.
Now, sudden burst of laughter,
for realisation dawns
'A dream. A BLOODY DREAM' I shout.
Laughter turns to manic cackling,
as kneeling on the sodden moss,
I kiss my forest Queen.

Safe in her bower I could conquer the world,
as joy and elation rise up within.
How could anyone be such a fool
to flee and hide from a will-o'-the wisp?
for now I'm aware he's nought but a shade
cast from a notion of fear.

Day fades to twilight, and the starry sky
echoes to the screech of an owl,
until the Gods play with matches
and the trees are aflame
in the crimson arc of dawn.

Voices come and voices fade,
but no-one seems aware
of the scruffy, bedraggled vagrant
skulking under a tree.
Far removed from the world they call 'real',
I HAVE to make them see,
all that I am, have been and will be,
must divorce myself from HE!

Venturing out from my fortress of power,
to take the centre stage,
I climb upon a grassy mound
and begin to draw a crowd,
as peeling off each layer of Holmes,
along with a layer of clothes,
soon I'm left stark-naked,
shouting, 'See! I'm not really Holmes, I'm ME!'

From the midst of a loud commotion,
I'm seized and wrapped in a coat,
then bundled into a waiting van
and hastily shot up with dope.
As voices recede and faces blur,
I begin to drift away
upon a tide of forgetfulness,
to drown in the ocean of bliss.

From the land beyond all time and space,
they pluck this reluctant Soul
and thrust it back into its cell
of a prison made of bone.
Such agonies as I vainly struggle
to cling to the last shreds of hope,
I finally have to concede defeat
and return to my doom-laden fate.

A face looms out of a swirling mist,
but I can't quite make out his words.
He seems to be telling me all will be well
if I take my pills when I'm told!
Oh how could a man ever be so wrong,
for he fails to realise
that standing behind him and just to his left,
is HOLMES............................................