Instant

Gratify me instantly,

I might – or might not – pay:

joy is on my shopping list,

no anger, sadness, fear.

Grin and grin as minutes, hours,

turn to shadow years;

tomorrow now, tomorrow for

- lopsided smiles – and tears.

Words fail

Can you speak of leaves,

explain the wind

or one man’s shirt

and woman’s nightie

hanging on a single line?

Scuttering clouds,

lilies in ponds;

fallen cars

in a river or ditch?

What permission

came from Buddha,

Allah,

transparent angel

or swinging cross

for you to know

the meaning of such

flittingly

awesome

words?

Old Age

At the Care Home fete,

a set of wooden stocks with

coloured flags waving.

Big Top

Green - ten meters tall;

a Big Top inflates with breath

filling sacred space.

Story

A book’s a book,

where angels

tiptoe in between

twenty six letters

(already corrected)

laughing aloud at fixation.

After all the indignity

of editing by editors,

an inject squirts

a story out of no thing

and angels from a soulful place

dance – here and there – out among

the twenty six, flowing a

Technicolor  dream.

Catch

He does this thing, Andrew,

- statistically different from me and you.

Shouting! Not to make you jump

- but simply for exuberance.

He looks you in the eye, expressing

excitement for any flash

of theatre, a piece of toast, a ray of sun.

Like, always it’s a Xmas or birth day

present moment

and, every time, a bead

of juice leaps from his heart

- into yours.

But only if you’re thirsty

and ready to catch.

Bathos

Today every habit will be cured,

every cliché – cut – to the quick.

Getting dressed,

I put my foot down,

pull my socks up;

put the boot in.

Wide awake a while,

I feed my folly, smile.