Skim a brittle frozen lake
And dance into my heart again
Melt my mind with breaths of spring
And lead me to The May
When the nights are lighter And when the days are lengthening
Bluster me with morning thrills,
Lead me to my Blue Remembered Hills
Fill my sky with untold stars
Breathe me into life again
Sketch my air with summer nights
And choose for me the way
Your magic hour at sunset
When reds and golds surprise
Roll my tongue with sugar pills
And lead me to my Blue Remembered Hills
Once we were callow young
With all our years before us
Ever two together as one
Now with our new found song aching to be sung
We’ll cast our dreams upon the Blue Blue Hills
So dance me through the Valentine
To where our love is sheltering
Shower me in blossom sparks
Of hawthorne’s scented day’til sage Augustus clothes us
In frosted robes of silvery
When seasons move against our will
We’ll walk upon our Blue Remembered Hills
When seasons move against our will
On Blue Remembered Hills(from Splinters and Sparks)
Ten thousand days, perhaps more
Now faded forever
Since he first enlightened this lyricist
Guiding my vestal quill
Through undiscovered lands
With the poise of Gandalf
Proffering just enough to arouse one more query
The old man stood bent at the waist
The autumn of his life declared by the deep lines upon his face
His hands unable to conceal a never-ending tremble
He has always appeared ancient to my youth-filled gaze
Silver hair with amber tips
Bespectacled eyes behind thick glass
A wooden cane never leaving his grip
The morning sun greets our kinship
As I help him to our old park bench
Quietly we share the new dawn
I speak first
As oft I do,
Nay, as I always have
I pose my question,
“Where do tears go when they depart my eyes?”
I know they wander down my cheeks
When my emotions I cannot disguise
So, tell me dear sir,
“Where do tears go when they depart my eyes?”
Without a word, he looks at me
A glimpse of sadness breaks upon his face
For he already knows the reason of my query
The healer’s words had no hope to lend
The cancerous centaur
Laughed at the toxic elixir
Spreading its tentacles
Tendering deadly kisses
It seems my time here, is nearing the end
He spoke to me with an ancient whisper
A slithering smile slowly began to appear
He spoke as a teacher
A prophet
A friend
“You have nothing to fear
Soon you will stand in the place He prepared for you
There you will see the glorious truth-
Tears never die or go away
They turn to mist
To be used another day”
“Soon you will understand
He knows every tear that has ever dared to fall
And He will stretch out His hand
And gently wipe them all
That my young friend
Is where the tears go”
Laughter echoes over her mind
Quietened by the aching heart to wind
Time froze and disintegrated into tears
Accompanied by profound disdainful fears
Was he truthful to her innocent true love?
She pondered over her commitment to resolve
Questions surged with answers to find
But the aching heart crumpled her spirit to grind
The long forgotten true love lay dying
As she resolved to face the man who was honestly lying
Gathering strength from her burning tears of betrayal
Evolved has she into a woman of survival
Fearless and undeterred she ran towards the sun
And her free spirit blissfully screamed that she has just begun.
I started writing poems back in 1983 while working in Brunei. I have recently written a number of love poems for my wife, with two of them in the final four in WildSound Poetry Festivals, with another of my poems that Julian Ford read out online, in the final four.
If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
I think due to my love of writing, it would Le Child, whose writing I think is in a class of its own.
What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
I think the words in my poem would appeal to many people, especially those who do not know the difference between love and desire. Also, by having my poem read out live, it acts to give more publicity to my writing endeavours.
Do you write other works? scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
I have written and had published two short fiction books, plus one re my life in Turkey where I have lived for over 25 years, and a memoir entitled Follow in the Tigerman’s Footsteps. This covers my working as an expat for nineteen years in fifteen countries spread throughout the Middle, Far East and North Africa. In conjunction with Voyage Media who think my memoir could be used as the basis for a television series, I have written a pitch, which is on a list that Voyage sends out to over 6,000 producers to see if one is interested in using it.
At present, Julian Ford, one of your readers is working on turning my memoir into an audio book. I am presently writing a novel, and had over 14 articles published in online magazines, and one published in a UK expat magazine. I also took part in a live radio show in America re my writing.
What is your passion in life?
My passion is writing and hoping that one day I might have one of my books used as the basis for a film.
It’s a light-hearted parody of a very well-known poem: Cargoes by John Masefield. I updated the topic for a modern-day readership.
What motivated you to write this poem?
The idea just came to me out of the blue when I was pushing a shopping cart around a supermarket. By the time I reached the checkout I’d worked out the poem’s basic structure and thought of some of the lines. I had to keep repeating them over and over to myself until I got home and could write them down!
How long have you been writing poetry?
I’ve dabbled with it for most of my life, but it’s only during the past few years that I’ve started taking my work more seriously.
If you could have dinner with one person (dead or alive), who would that be?
Oh gosh, there are so many. But if I had to choose just one, I think it would have to be William Shakespeare. He was a great and prolific writer, and has influenced much of my own work, including two of my novels (see below). I’d love to ask him what he did during the seven years of his life which are unaccounted for, between leaving Stratford-upon-Avon and arriving in London. And I’d also find out once and for all if he spoke with a regional accent!
What influenced you to submit to have your poetry performed by a professional actor?
It felt like a great opportunity, for which I am most grateful. Thank you.
Do you write other works? Scripts? Short Stories? Etc..?
I’ve written a few short stories which have been published in anthologies, and I’ve also written four novels which are published by Crooked Cat Books. Two of these (The Ghostly Father and The Unkindest Cut of All) are based on works by Shakespeare (respectively Romeo & Juliet and Julius Caesar). The other two are Nice Girls Don’t (a romantic intrigue based on a search for family secrets) and Never on Saturday (a time-slip romance novella based on an old French legend). I currently have two other projects on the go, but they are still in the early stages.
I also do editing work for other writers.
What is your passion in life?
Life itself. It should be lived to the full. Every moment is precious, and will never come again.
I am afraid to let you in
I am afraid of what this love would bring
I am scared of this unknown light
So with your love my heart daily fights
I am afraid to let your love be
I am scared to set your love free in me
So i close the eyes of my heart pretending not to see
That your love has completely saturated me
Your love got in without a key
And began loving me softly
I am afraid that your loving me
Is just to much for me……. to be
He never dresses to match his appearance
Always aggressive on the outside and calm within
Statue has it that dignity must be protected
And he falsely represented it with carnal thought
Oh! He’s so tough the people around whispered.
Little by little his actions became his character
But he is so scared of shadows that cause no harm
Little did he know that his action are govern by emotions
He set himself loose and totally forget who he was
His plan was to stop after being scared off.
His story changed after his untimely death
A write up reveals is plans and purpose
Sending a wrong massage into the neighborhood
What an ugly burial he caused for himself
Written on his grave “MASTER OF DISGUISE.
