The Teapot

Dedicated to my friend Clare, 24/2/16

When all is said and done
And the space inside is cluttered,
Yet empty,
Come back here.
When the winds and taunts of life
Throw you this way and that
And harrow your hopes
Listen to the kettle’s song
And gaze upon nature,
Not people.
Let in the air and the steam
And feel the brewing
Through the warming sides.
And know,
Out there, connected somewhere
Are the generations,
The soul friends,
The stories,
The ones who love you.
All brought together in this,
The twirl of rising steam,
The sip,
That holds the tales
And the love
Of all who have sat with it,
And now with you.



When the presence of others
Weaves it’s thorny cage
Around my words, my heart
And I dare not be true
When all of life’s anticipation
Promise that endurance
Will lead to contentment
Does not pull through
And I have imagined myself
Into confusion and pain
Instead of wonder and
Let the thorns grow
And I can barely move
For their threat that skims
My every word, my heartbeat
Must stay shallow
And I cannot reach out
Though I know too well
The drip drip of life
Moments falling to the ground
I came and I still spoke
But was only at home
In brief seconds hugged
And otherwise wasn’t around.
I cannot say if I alone
Perceive the change
Or if I frustrate others
In pursuit of openess
I can only hope to say
Something wasn’t right
And breathe carefully
Hoping you see I still care
This duress comes and goes
Much like guidance
From greatness anticipated
I hope next time is free
From these thorned crown hours
I hope I will emerge
And show to you my heart
By the thorns scarred
But beating




That sensation
In the sleep deprived
Of floating out
A little
And not quite fitting
Behind your own eyes
And the moment
Speaks in breaths
Are you real
Is it all a dream
Are the dreams
The reality
And reality
The dream
And does it matter
Really what
You do this moment

And then
You breathe
The plainness
Of the table
Shivers into focus
And you know
It matters
Every second
Every breath
You must check
Was it the best
That you could be
Were you kind
Or a little too free
Or lost
And is this you
The true you
Or are you still
The reality dream


Colours of love


Someone once wisely advised me:
‘You may have more than one shares your soul’
‘There are soul mates of thought, and of learning,
Of adventure of warmth and of all.’
‘Your soul mate of passion and company
May differ from they who share mind
And they once again from the ones who share hope and ideas for the future of life.’
These words took a weight off my shoulders.
For they told me my feelings were true.
And if I felt strongly someone shared my path
That wasn’t an insult to you.
Yellow the warmth of the home and the heart
Red for the mystery untouched
Orange for forever creative well
Purple for written my part
Blue for the past for the stories untold
And the mystery teenage years
White for the certainty often illudes me
Playing on half-formed fears
Pink for the changing and newfound desire
Black for the unknown heart
Indigo blend for appearance and trend
Disguising the plainness of art
Green for the skill and experience, that calls me to envy some so,
Turquoise for true admiration, that
Means I let jealousy go.
For every line in the rainbow
Reflected in crystal
On white
I feel a strong bond to someone
One burning match in the fire
That keeps me alive and aflame
Though it one day will eat me alive
When I will be bowed like the rainbow
Connected to too many lives.

Haiku to Tea


In the teacup’s steam
Memories, daydreams, ancestors
Thoughts and creations.

Flamelight 22/04/16

The golden flames lick round
The billy’s tarnished base
Embers glow in eyes
Of the gathered as they play
The notes rise on the smoke
And the voices are ablaze
With golden tea and spirits
That quiet the mind yet raise
Hopes and dreams in hearts
As all else gently fades
Trusted furred companion
To their side, sleeping lays.
The light glows on his fur
Making dancing auburn shine
That same glowing that is found
In the players’ open minds.
Steam above the billy
In the flame-light gently waves
And the voices raised are quieted
In a tea eager haze.

When Empathy Warms Us 07/05/16

Sometimes people are afraid
Afraid of empathy.
Frightened of the pain
That could be waiting
Inside someone else’s heart.
But I’m not here today
To talk about hurt
That can be shared
Although it can move mountains.
I want to talk instead
About when empathy
Can lift you
Away from your personal troubles
Into the warmth
Of another’s hope
And fill you with dreams.
The pride you can feel
At someone else’s goals
That leads you to be
Inspired, not envious.
When other’s achievements
Can buoy you up
On the wave of delight and pride
And along with them
You believe in yourself.
When others’ joy and love
Is yours
And no matter your present woes
You may draw hope and happiness
From the fulfilled dreams
And joyful moments
Of others.
This is the smiling face
Of empathy
Who wears a dramatic mask
And although often that mask
To its darker side turns
Those times
Are when you give others
The same seeds of hope
And draw them from sadness
With companionship
As you draw yourself.
So often we remark
That empathy offered to those
In sadness could change the world.
But empathy offered to those
In happiness, my friends,
Will change YOU.
And so this two-sided token coin
Can bring change, and promise,
Both without, and within.

Of days in the grass 13/05/16

Steaks of sunshine through the leaves
Golden yellow coloured breathe
Bright white daisies in the grass
And buttercups to line our path
As we wander ever on
The road ahead seems not so long
Compared with nature’s eons deep
That built the earth under our feet.
Gazing up at branches high
The generations breathe and sigh
The grass has whispered in its time
All secrets we could ever find.


Damp 17/06/16

Drip, drip, the slow rain goes
No downpour or hail or snow
Just a constant, quiet, sogginess
General glum, damp, fogginess
Where did Summer go, you ask?
Why sun, did not your presence last?
But why, this place is not Australia!
Sun too often would be a failure
To live up to the rumoured tales
Of ‘Summer’ in England and in Wales.
Drip, drip, goes the rain
Every sodden grey old day
Since our visitors went on their way
But not while they were here to stay!
‘It was fine’ they would say
‘The weather in Southampton’s great!
Summer’s clearly underway,
We had such lovely, sunny days.’
And it was true, for one week whole
Not a drop of rain did fall
But no sooner stepped they on the train
Than down came the same grey rain.

Daylight 12/08/16

Dawn seeps in through the gaps

Between the blind slats

At five, whether you’re ready or not.

If you lay in this dark it is false

Like the sort you make for daytime naps

Below a hard-working groaning air conditioner

On one of those Australian afternoons

When the heat has prohibited all else

And all your day was done at eleven AM.

This looks the same

But you know that if you venture out

A morning chill is in the air to meet you

And after the leaves have fallen

There will be no more whispers of morning

Through the blind slats

But a premature four in the afternoon night-time

Traversed hidden in hoods and boots layered thick with frosty mud.