Suite française

sea of blood

A haunting tune

A sweet melody

A time lost

Never to be forgotten

Of hardship and pain

Loss and destruction

Of anger, resentment

Fear and disbelief.

Villages controlled

Lives changed forever,

Soldiers just boys

Following orders

A love forbidden

Wrong moment in time

Memories fading

Pain still strong

Voices from the past

In harmony now

This beautiful music

This nostalgic piece

Of a time in the past

Reflected upon

The memories of

Suite française

Shared and passed on.

The House Opposite

The House Opposite

The House Opposite – Rye

.

I am opposite ‘The House Opposite’

Opposite to what? I thought.

Its dark oak panelled doors

Each one exquisitely carved

The old dark handle

And the bright new lock

Set in dark oak frames

Beaten, knocked, gouged.

What stories could you tell me?

With your lamp above the door

Who used to enter you?

And what is it your opposite to?

Are you different from across the cobbled road?

Is it modern where you are old?

So I cross the cobbles

And look to see what the house could see

And Opposite was another house

Almost identical

With the name

‘The House Opposite to Me’.

Grumpy Bus

Oh the smiles where did they go

I’ve given lots of mine away

I smiled at everyone today

Trying to turn their scowls

Into something much nicer to look at

And what do I get in return

The Grumpy bus

Hoards of people, following the crowd

Unable to turn their downward face

Into something smiling

And how do they feel

Miserable

And me

I smile, I’m happy

They can keep the grumpy bus

I know it must be expensive

In time and energy

To stay on the grumpy bus

Where as a smile

Is FREE

A Thousand Stories

beach hut

A thousand stories,

behind every door

a pink one a blue one

stripes in bright colours

a beach hut of tales

waiting to be told.

Rotten doors,

broken locks

peeling paint

salt air pummeling

sun scorching blistering

screeches of seagulls

laughter and tears

a thousand stories on

A trip to the beach

New, Newer, Newest

Is this new, newer, and newest.

Have I just bought it

Was it just produced?

A new book, a film, a song

Is it a kind of now exiting?

Or appearing for the first time.

It’s not a new concept,

But new knowledge, just found

Its newness is unfamiliar,

It’s strange, a new idea

A visit to a place

New to me, will it make me better

Different,from the former me.

A fresh new start, unused

Will I be a new me?

So in a new era, a new world,

Planted with newness around me.

Flowers growing, fresh green grass,

New buds wakening,

The spring is here,

A new person awaits

So I ring out the old

And sing in the new

Chasing a space

Glorious weather

spend it outside

chasing a space

not easy to find

the sea is too far

the town too busy

i’m chasing a space

to loose myself

i just want some water

with greenery around

birds in the trees

the promise of spring

next week

when the weather is fine

I’ll be chasing a space

it will be the sea

to get lost in to ocean

soak up the rays

New life

Newness is hiding, tight in a bud

Protected by a sheath so fine

Harsh winds blow

Frost is bitter

Rain falls heavily

Yet the bud is sheltered

It’s out of harm’s way.

Sun climbs high in the sky

Warming the earth

Its rays heat the air

Bud is stirring

Pushing hard, the sheath released

Slowly opening,

Releasing each petal

It triumphantly stands,

Swaying in the breeze

It bows its head

To the glorious sun

A new life has begun.