A Meadow in Bloom

In the tapestry of memories of my mind, I dwell, waiting for you


Whilst I wait, I remember a walk in St James’ Park,


To an accompaniment of music delivered by nature’s, gentle, melodious  harp, 

With a flute harmony ‘n’ banjo thrown in, to accompany a pigeon pursuing another in walking, whirling circles;

In  lustful abandonment!

A chorus of sounds,

A tulip for your troubles; a rose, for its nettles; all beneath a silken sky,

Providing an animated backdrop, to an old-fashioned love story… stirring awake-

Like: a breath of air turning kindle gently into flame,

Two good friends began this walk, no longer *just* good friends, when its end came round,

Love, is a concept of loyalty, compassion, understanding & a term of art,

Populating the long halls of your memories with vivid master-works, like a prized gallery of vaunted treasures;

To occupy your restful days, with wonder, at a life spent in the company of beautiful souls (both within & without),

To reflect on the precious truth, that, is:

I have been truly blessed, for I have been loved.

Embers of Violence

Embers of violence burning bright

In the remains of a storm of virulent night

A creature wreathed in ambient glow; moving with stealth, intent and purpose, through a vista of sprawling carnage,

The wreckage doth be strewn every which way;

With survivor & survived, amongst devastation; still in the throws of a dazed, confused, befuddled display,

To a chorus of sounds voicing a thousand thousand ills,

Is the setting for a primeval tabula rasa of hunter, prey and kill

In this terrible melee, the echo of a multitude of screams do rise;

But, be they borne out of terror, fear, remorse or, brute violence, none yet have the wit to surmise,

What ever way the end cometh- it cometh, it’s true,

With  survivor & survived, left to  grieve, mourn, and move on:

Memories do fade, like what happened yesterday-

And, over time, are gradually reshaped to dull & mottle the bitter harsh light of that terrible day

Hard lessons learnt are eventually un-learnt,

Thus- when history repeats,  people are not forewarned & are left ill-prepared,

Therefore, it is not a conceit when  this creature of opportunity and violence is stirred awake in the wake of disaster once more;

When, the full circle complete, for this cycle at least, the beast is left unchallenged, to wreak havoc yet more!

Pretty Girl in Crutches

 You walked in in crutches, 

A pretty girl in a red, flower-patterned knee-length dress…with trestles 

Wearing stockings, on a bright summers day & on crutches!

I thought you’d sprained your leg at the gym,

Like all those young things playing at being trendy models,

Your thick brown locks did frame: 

Strikingly lush red lips and a set of bright emerald pools for eyes, 

You could not have gone unnoticed, even if you’d tried!

A striking, large, Black Widow Tattoo in purple with black outline, on the back of your right hand- 

On the nape between thumb and forefinger-

Peaking the curiosity, like every one bore witness to it like me! 

As I answered your confidential questions- 

I asked, curiously ‘what happened?’, clumsily indicating your crutches

You didn’t take offence, as you likely should have; 


You tapped one of the crutches against your left leg as you looked on amusingly, 

To the echo of the sound of a hollow wooden limb,

‘It goes all the way up’, you said noticing my surprise with familiarity/mischievous amusement yet content

I had the audacity to ask: how did that happen? 

You explained in remarkable candidness and it left me horrified. 

Violently robbed of your innocence as a child of 12,

In the wake of  the Balkan conflict-

Then, shot six times by the same man who had intended to leave no trail behind, 

‘I’m covered in bullets’, you said

Such horrific information, delivered matter-of-factly in all earnestness!

I was left speechless,

You recognised the signs, well-used by now to the reaction over the past decade ‘n’ more, 

As you smiled & wobbled away awkwardly,

I reflected on:

Your strength against impossible adversity;

Many would not have been so strong nor lasted this long,

Though, not, you:

Your attitude is determination, from root to stem!

And your character and will are a mix of iron & steel-

Holding up a external set of  features that is extraordinary,

You will fare well, in the end

And is a lesson to all about determination overcoming adversity:

That, we all must relentlessly fight for what we want, every second that we are alive!

For humankind, life is not simply about survival of the fittest as Darwin suggested, but also- 

Who is most determined to withstand life’s trials, tribulations & demands!

If only I had the guts to say these words to your face,

Rather than in retrospect, in awe of a brave lass; fighting the good fight, with all of her might & more!