Broken Trees

silver cinder’d
frosted fingers
across these
broken trees
in hues renewed
their boughs exude
death’s facsimile
of leaves
upon the breeze
they dance with ease
exuding echoes
of the sun
yet winter’s cast
the summer past
their life in part
is run.

Naked Verse

In my dreams
I paint poems
upon her skin
each new verse
revealing
one secret
after another

In my dreams
I taste these poems
from her skin
my tongue
reciting
each secret
she exhales.

Cairns

no carved epitaphs
just these long forgotten bones
under ancient cairns

Still

the earth is scorched
and the smoke of former times
flavours the charred forests
deciduous decay
evergreen grey
yet still the robin sings.

no lovers lay together
what kisses that remained
wait for the fires to pass
passions burned
desires upturned
yet still the robin sings.

Sunspots

hanging sunspots glare
mirrored in the silver stream
of my consciousness

Anoint

anoint my body
as the winter does the trees
naked save the snow

The Boy In The Bush Is A Daft Rhyme

the boy in the bush sings a song
to let the whole world know he’s there
for if he held still his little tongue
it’s doubtful he’d get anywhere

the boy in the bush wears no clothes
though nor does the bush in the fall
but as far as most anyone knows
it matters to neither at all

could I be the boy in the bush
all hidden away from your sight
and I grant you my voice is not much
but my little tongue does alright.

Snowflakes

they kiss the winter
snowflakes stroking the night sky
such a brief affair

Ambush

my heart, the outlaw
waiting to ambush my head
into seeing truth

I’d Like To

I’d like to write a poem
to set out on the page
in scattered rhymes
of pretty lines
to set for you the stage
of when I speak my poem
in rhetoric so true
with loud elan
clear prose that scans
to extol my love for you.