She stands alone in the wilderness
where the desert flowers bloom;
I write poems for her in the hope
That my words would command
her storms and splash her skin
with a dash of fine perfume.
Words from the Jagged Edge of Truth
She stands alone in the wilderness
where the desert flowers bloom;
I write poems for her in the hope
That my words would command
her storms and splash her skin
with a dash of fine perfume.
Dear Katy
faithful and true,
I didn’t get to tell you
how I saw the
mountains move
when you sung
of tea and oranges;
and when the waters
covered everything,
nothing was heard
but you and your song.
A POEM FOR KATY (iii)
Do not be silent,
do not let the song
fall from your sweet lips,
cry like the thunder,
beat the bodhran,
let it echo your heart
among the stars
all the nights
that you are gone.
A POEM FOR KATY (ii)
Sing again and loud,
push back the fading light
and lift me high above
the threatening cloud,
steal each note
like the angel said,
don’t go to rest
don’t bow your head.
An encore, please!
An encore.
Just one more song
to carry me through
this sadness
that rakes my heart,
one more tune
to stay these stones that
smash my bones.
Oh that I should hear the psalm,
a tune to sooth my troubled mind
played upon the lyre and harp,
green pastures, still waters,
so easily left behind
On carpet of moss and fern
a king’s bed is made
there should I be lightly held
and weightless be the lade.
Looking for the dappled sun
in the forest glade
there I would take my rest
and lay down the silver blade.
Do not hurry after
the fleeting shadow,
for unlike that flowing hem
it cannot be touched
and has no healing
or dream to deliver
I missed her call around 11.00am
but she left a quiet message
reminding me it was 30 years ago
today that our father died;
and in that moment
all the moments that
I have missed him,
stood quietly by my side.