THE SEA
The roared thundering salt white salt flung wall
Foams, wells, forms fermenting froth fierce-fought sprung
From forced fractured under-swell's spun
Force slammed, slung, spreads in a burst bubbled shawl
Of soft relief sighing down the sunlit run,
Shoals full won in a struggled sprawl strung
As softened threads on the sea-shore's smooth tongue
In a whispered haul of faint breathed sussuration
Washing on the firm-faced whishing sand:
A gull calls, wheels, spells and spills, dwells, shrills, mills
In a high melee, chases, races, flares in to land
As a breeze blows, crows, tucks the hands of flags
Flapping half-flopped in restless flailing strops
Atop the blind poles lopped; time alone stops
In a gathered instant as meaning drags
A long stretch writ across the day's full cry:
I sigh; and place myself in God's hand
In deep release, no hour can harm this land,
Nor shadows from their darkness make a lie.
February 2000
An exercise in word-play, didn't quite pull it off - the perfect day, when everything seems still because time has stopped, and nothing can taint the day.
SUNG, IN THE HALF-LIGHT OF SHADOW'S PLAY
Sung, in the half-light of shadow's play
The children's song, I sing
My long-gone dream time flaming on inside;
What's done is never done, stays on
As One, sung song sings, belongs,
Can never be undone, is never gone,
Begins in each new day's new-woken dawn
That song sung and sings at one
As each day sings its song; theirs is begun,
Mine done, but sings at one with their song
My song sung: we sing as One;
Moved, moving on, age and youth's same song.
15/9/99
Another exercise in word-play. Very simply, I was watching the children one evening whilst I washed up, and likening their play to a song that creation was singing. As they were playing I was remembering my childhood days and joys inside - once you've been a child, it never goes, it stays inside you.
Each morning I wake up with the inner child alive inside me (well, most mornings) at one with the new-born day (it doesn't last long); their time of childhood is beginning, mine's done, but I still remember my childhood excitement and feel the child's excitement on waking up (sometimes).
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