Here are some of my poems. I have often written poems for friend who wanted to evoke a memory or feeling.

Deep inside

You tell me of your demons
I’ve demons of my own
They pale in fair comparisons
I’m glad I’m not alone

You speak with candour tales so true
With honesty, not pride
You share the hurt that wounded you
And show the dark inside

You honour me with openness
You let me deep within
Your trust an intimate caress
I stand within your skin

Who are we?

We are like yet not alike
Strangers but brother and sister
I hear the notes of my song in you
Altered to sing in a different key
Like a reflection we are inverted
Yet I see so much that I know
Are we to pass in a moment
Or linger in interlinked worlds?
Who is the echo, who is the sound?
Where is the reason, what have we found?
Where logic is lacking can feeling still stand?
For good, for bad, we are ourselves
Living in perfect asymmetry

Twisted

He carved his words with bitterness
An edge to wound her deep
To hide the pain that gnawed at him
To keep the truth asleep
He spat with hate to hide the love
That made him stop and stutter
Her tears burned through him like a fire
She seared him as he cut her

The anger made a fool of him
Changed from man to monster
It twisted truth in to a lie
he used her love against her
It hid the fear from him as well
and almost stopped him knowing
that he was wrong and wrong again
to force her in to going

The girl had done the dreadful thing
Had gone where none may go
Had seen what lay within his heart
And brought him down this low
She had seen where he was weak
and where he needed shelter
and in his desperate twisted fear
this bitter blow he dealt her

This was the thing that scared him most
To open to another
And take the hand of one who loved
Who’d help him to recover
He could not bear the gentle touch
of one who would be kind
And so he pushed her far away
And shut her from his mind


So now he sits alone again
He nurses his own sickness
He hides the truth from his own eyes
blames others for this mess
He wonders why he never finds
A love to set him free
He doesn’t see the fault inside...
He never says “It’s me”

Cat

Golden eyed tiger, kitten playmate
Feline companion, stopping out late
Mouser domestic, mog in the hall
Shadowy hunter, each cat is them all

Chaser of wool ball, stalker of night

Soft sinuous lover, snarling in fight
Sleeping by fire, scratching at door
Passing so silent, pawprints on floor

Proud and alone, she purrs in your arms
Constant and contrary, so full of charms
Dark and mysterious, homely and fat
All of these things in truth make a cat

Evening forest

Sun a shining path on water
Soft breeze ruffles lake from calm
A thousand mirrors, red gold beaten
marks the end of perfect day 

Leaves sky dark against the sunset
branches sighing in the breeze
Scent of pine and mossy oak
Song of woodland fills the air

Now comes night in purple shadow
Stars bright points against the dark
Lights that dance in broken fracture
in the lake at forest glade

Snowy wings in silence ride
Yearling buck sniffs chilly air
Forest quiet in midnight slumber
Far from hand or eye of man

The pages of my life

I live my life from day to day,
from page by page as in a play.
I know the pages that I’ve read
but can not see the page ahead.
The story twists and turns for me
the book of you, the book of we.
Players come and players go
But when each comes I cannot know.

Chapters mark the changes great
and terrible in cruellest fate,
the many strands of story stand
and often tangle in my hand,
for I must fit so many parts,
beyond the skill of actor’s arts.
Wife and mother, girl and lover
each as seen by someone other.

The pages turn, they will not wait
and so my life in chance or fate.
I change myself in subtle ways
and find new joys inside the days.
One page will be an end to pages,
Chapters each in different ages,
And like the story, I shall grow
until the tale I wholly know.

As I read, I come to see
that understanding is the key.
I write the life inside my book
and all the choices that I took
are written here for me to read,
the good, the bad, the simple need,
The hopes both foolish and the wise,
To face the lows and seek the highs

The story changes - so must I,
from babe to ancient, time to die.
A time for all things in their turn,
Sometimes pleasures new to learn.
True happiness is in the book
and tragedy if I will look.
The pages turn, the chapters too
I live my life; what else to do?