SPIRIT OF THE FOREST

You'll glimpse me in the wind-tossed leaves,

I'm the deeper green within.

You'll hear my voice in the rustling ferns

whispering your name.

You'll feel my touch in the gentle breeze

soothing your troubled brow.

My woody scent will draw your thoughts

beyond the mundane world,

where awareness expands and you feel the pain

of every trampled flower.

And when you're tired and fall asleep

beneath the spreading Oak,

you'll dream my dreams then remembrance will come

that you and I have always been one.......

REBELLION

For Cordelia

Who are you to rule my life

And control my every move

From the stronghold of your cosy chairs

Like smug all-powerful autocrats?

You command me to be in at nine

Before the night is born,

Knowing my friends will ridicule

As you arrive to escort me home.

Yet petty laws imposed on me

Are all you care about

And in the ensuing battle,

Humiliation wins.

My boyfriends are never good enough,

They never stand a chance.

You're mortified by my 'slovenly lout'

And his heavy metal band.

What's even worse, his ultimate sin

Is to hail from a council estate.

But why should I worry if he's working class

When we're having such fun on a date?

Your petty spies are everywhere,

I have no privacy.

When we kissed as Jamie met me from school

I was grounded for a week,

For the Dunlop-Coopers spotted us

And couldn't wait to squeal.

They distorted the truth until you believed

We were shagging in the street!

Their daughter Melinda's iconic traits

Are paraded in front of me

'Why can't you be like her,'  you whine,

'And make us proud of you?

To a Member of Parliament she's engaged,

She's an elegant socialite,

And her legendary summer balls

Are an ostentatious delight!'

I'm forced to dress conservatively

When attending her afternoon teas

In shapeless brownish-greys

And tweeds to below the knees.

I'm feeling so dowdy and desperate

To dispense with etiquette

That deep inside a warhead seethes

Threatening to eject.

'Come and meet my cousin,' she croons,

'I'm certain he's just your type.'

Then patronisingly she adds,

'He'll make you a lady all right.

For he's descended from royalty you see,

On his father's side.

Just hope and pray he has a taste

For plainness in a bride!'

So I'm cornered behind a potted palm

By an arrogant stammering bore.

His foul breath and body odour

Make me feel quite faint.

'You must j-join me on my y-yacht,'

He mumbles as lecherous eyes

Fix their gaze on my firm young breasts

Until disgust I can no longer hide.

'I'd rather die!' I scream and smash

Their priceless saucer and cup.

As coffee oozes over marble floor,

Open-mouthed they gawp.

For the very first time, their attention is mine

And I really want to shock.

So slowly and deliberately I undress,

Discarding the loathed attire.

As ladies shriek and one or two swoon,

The men just ogle and stare.

It seems the sight of a red satin thong

Has hypocrisy laid bare!

Just before I walk away

I boldly return your stare,

'I'm sorry mother and father

If I disappoint you so,

But for your ideals I'll never care

So it's best if I just go.

All I wanted was a normal life

But you could never see

That all these years spent moulding me

Into who you believed I should be,

Has left no time to get to know

This person I call me!'



CHRISTOPHER

In Memoriam


I came across your bracelet today.
You know, the black leather one
embellished with pure white lizards?
I was tidying my cupboard
and there it was,
tucked away in a neglected corner,
still wrapped in its original
pouch of time-faded ivory silk.

And I thought of you.
Closing my eyes,
I could picture you clearly
on a movie screen inside my head.
You were smiling at me,
as you often did,
and I was moved to tears
by the desperate need
to see you again,
just one last time.

But I know that will never happen.
So I'm tortured by the notion
that you may wonder if  I've abandoned
all thoughts of you
since your emigration
to that not-so-distant land,
where insubstantial people live.
Although you would never believe that
if you only knew
how frequently my dreams hover
over that lonely red-brick cottage
where I lived with you
for the first seventeen years
of my life.
Nor would you believe it
if you could look inside my mind
and see how much I wish
I could rewind time
to those simple, carefree days
of bonfires in the orchard
and long walks across the common
with two happy, barking dogs.

And I'm so afraid you may be disappointed
that I no longer mention the place
where the most precious dust on Earth
nourishes the soil and spreading roots
of a beautiful red rose bush.
But the people you knew and loved
have long since moved on,
and I have allowed myself
to be pulled along with them
into the spiral of time,
that ceaseless torrent of moments
leading ever further
from your noble presence.

It isn't that you've become
an unimportant
and no longer necessary part of my life,
but because I have to keep
my grieving heart hidden.
I am so afraid they'd think me morbid
should I reveal the truth - that
all I wanted for a long, long time
after your departure
was to lie down on that soft earth
and let the dark force of nature
reunite us forever.
But I had to be strong - if only
for the sake of my other loved ones,
and try to carry on without you.

Yes, I have managed to survive
this devastating loss,
but please don't ever imagine
that I will forget the person
I owe my very existence to.
How could I?
Your legacy is me.
I am your creation,
your work of art.
You gave me form and substance.
You shaped this personality
and instilled these values.
You are someone I will never,
ever stop loving.

My Father.

MERLYN'S CAVE

Standing here,

in front of the entrance

to Merlyn's Cave

on Tintagel beach.

Midnight, deserted.

Noisy, intrusive tourists

are long gone.

An eerie silence, broken only

by continual crashing

of mighty Atlantic waves

onto jagged rocky outcrops.

Stepping into the darkness,

leaving protective glow

of full moon outside.

Moving slowly, cautious

of slippery rocks

underfoot.

Cold penetrates

right to the bone here.

Dripping sounds

echo spookily

around ancient sea-sculpted walls.

A sudden movement.

Startling.

Holding my breath,

listening intently.

Shivering in the clammy

atmosphere.

Silence.

I'm unnerved.

Feel like retracing my steps,

escaping to the safety

of moonlit beach outside.

But a strange impulse

draws me onward.

It's as though my feet

have a will of their own.

So I'm led ever deeper

into the dank interior

of the Earth's bowels.

Peculiar whispering

surrounds me on all sides.

I'm convinced

there's someone in here with me.

'Hello,' I call out,

trying to sound much more confident

than I feel.

No reply,

just the returning echo

of my own voice.

But the whispering

abruptly ceases.

I'm approaching the far end

of the cave now.

I can see the Moon's reflection

in rippling water

through a narrow aperture.

A dark figure passes swiftly

from left to right

just a few feet

in front of me.

'Hello,' I call out again.

Still no answer.

Intrigue competes with fear

as I grope my way forward

to the exact spot

where I just lost sight

of the shadowy form.

There's nothing here

but solid rock wall.

I've never moved so fast

in my entire life!

Impervious to the slippery floor,

cracking shins on stone,

splashing knee-deep in rock pools,

I scramble to the relative security

of silver streaked

sandy beach.

Catching my breath,

I'm compelled to turn

and make sure

I'm not being followed.

There,

in the shadow

of gigantic Tintagel Head above,

stands that same figure,

motionless,

watching me.

'Who are you?' I call out,

as much in frustration

as any other emotion.

'I am Merlyn!'

a deep voice replies.

I blink

and the beach is deserted. 



This face appeared on the wall in my hall just after this experience.

It is no longer there, but continues to periodically re-appear in the

condensation on my bathroom mirror.

I can find no rational explanation.

SURVIVAL

A memory of being nineteen

You told me you loved me once,
in the very beginning
and I believed you
and was happy.

But then you said
I wasn't beautiful enough.
You weren't keen on my hair
because it wasn't black,
and my green eyes
were too pale for your taste.

So I dyed my hair
and used brown contact lenses,
and hoped you would
love me again.

But you said
that at four-feet-ten
I wasn't tall enough.
Well,
I couldn't do much
about that, except
teeter around on six-inch heels.

Then you said
my conversation was boring.
So I tried to think up
witty things to say.
But all that did
was annoy you.

You said
I wasn't sexy enough
in the bedroom.
So I bought lacy undies,
black stockings and suspenders.
But you said
I looked ridiculous
and I believed you,
so accepted all my faults.

Then I asked
why you stayed with me
if you found me
so repugnant,
and you replied that I
relieved your boredom
until someone better
came along.

Yet, still I stayed
because I loved you
and hoped you would change.
But you never did.

And when I finally had the courage
to tear myself away,
you said
I was weak and pathetic
and would never survive
without you.

Yet here I am today......

VANDALS

Why do vandals have to smash

Everything in sight?

And why do they do drugs and drink

Then go looking for a fight?

I suppose they think they're really tough

Intimidating us,

But I'm sure they're aware most passers-by

Are unlikely to make a fuss.

When they're in their marauding gangs

They think they rule the World,

Lording it over everyone

With baseball bats fast-twirled.

They kick our garden gate and throw

Beer bottles over our wall,

Then trash our car with an iron bar

Before attacking the shopping mall.

They shriek and whoop with wild delight

While racing a stolen car,

Then set it alight before running away

Like the cowards they really are.

For when you see one all alone

He'll swiftly pass you by,

With head down and hoodie over

In case you catch his eye.

His power, it seems, has deserted him

With the mass testosterone.

His voice is almost a whisper now

As he answers his mobile phone.

His sunken eyes have a vacant look

As there's nothing much within,

For the little intelligence he once had

Has been lost to cocaine and gin.

He'd be shocked to see himself

The way others do,

As the scourge of society

Respected by so few.

And what will happen when he has

Children of his own?

Will they be raised to mutilate

This land on which they've grown?

So heed this tale as a warning if

Like him, you're so weak and afraid

That you have to hide behind a brutish mob

For your life will soon degrade.

DREAMS

or NIGHTMARES?