A Pastoral Ode

dragon’s fly these melodies
sang in silence to the streams
which though gave birth in discord
grew into honeyed dulcet dreams
that once awakened by the sun
bring forth a music to the dawn
embracing life, in love pursued
from this day to each summer’d morn.

Rained

It had rained
and with it came
the sky laced low
of cameo
the bluest light
to end the night
and winter’s things
a sign of spring
with this day came
after the rain

Woodland

woodpecking echoes the cuckoo’s call
did we hear too the forest trees fall
or could that have been the grumpity roar
of rudely awakened overslept boar?

twit goes the skylark
peep peep sounds the tit
chirping is the chaffinch
rounding all of it
arark screams the raven
above woodpigeons coos
silent floats the sparrowhawk
taking in the view

silent as a falling leaf
or as the fated wren
seen by keen eyes in the sun
it’s eyes won’t see again.

Tower Garden

she walked into the towered garden
unsure of her place in the world
but as she departed from those gates
love was assured as fate unfurled
as the petals red as passion
her spirit flamed outside to see
for there inside the towered garden
I saw her and she saw me.

Skeyes

as I fly
in her eyes
I see the sky
reflected
above the storm
flashing warm
safe from harm
protected.

an ancient burial (first draft)

what dreams lived in his head then
upon that verdant delta when
the gods played games among the stars
could those dreams be just as ours
or have they over the eons past
like ghosts in this decaying casket
took on a form not of our ration
beyond the realms of our abstraction

Wild Poppies at the Villa Borghesi.

the poppies bleed and break
‘twixt stone heroes
whose hearts they wake
from millenia of wind and rain
cold marble stained
with blood again.

The Ashes of Shelley

and by your pale hand was writ
that which speech alone can’t hold
in vulgar tones, but mind and wit’s
imaginings the heart beholds
though but ash you were and are
this still heart’s blood eternal flows
that you may even now commune
all which perdition cannot consume

(photo taken May 4th 2018 ; Protestant Cemetery, Rome)

Lines on Keats

to love’s beauty
his silent lyrics paid
a fealty beyond gold
on his head
the gods had laid
a soul no man could hold.

Some Lines…January 20th 2018

what was this heart
before thee?
just mean flesh
to drive my breath
from one dark moment
to the next.