Lady night offers her generosity
as the stars twinkle in syncopation for me.
Shadow-clad silhouettes...
Their gaits mysterious.
The night lights trail into the depths of my eyes.
Burning away the seconds, so effortless.

The quietness...
Willing forth dishevelled reflections...
Of unkempt emotions.
Allowing a barrage...
Of thoughts and notions that span
over night and day.

So that they could...
Be conveyed through paper and screen.
So that I could...
Share with you what I intimately mean.
The unforgiving onslaught of ideas and feelings
I bravely conjured...
But too afraid to say.

So glad I wasn’t born a Daesh Child
Or Indian lower caste.
Or in some ghetto in Brazil
Or wherever.

The hands of Fate were kind to me,
Being born a Brit.
An easy life, compared to many men.

To think I could have been born anywhere:
A black, white or yellow,
Christian, Muslim, Jew, Hindu….
Even a Royal!

I’m glad indeed at what I am,
But should my birth determine all?
I must have Choices
Little though they be.

I choose Agnostic though I’m C of E,
And Humanist is my Way.
My Love of Nature is a solid choice:
Compassionate Kindness being my Creed.

My race and gender (and being Straight)
Are set in stone
Popular or not.
But otherwise I’m just very glad
To be Free.

Paul Butters

Where blue meets black
minds meet to share mystery
a birds wing, the songs of astronauts
the silence of vast spaces stretching out
tiny space dust particles forever travelling
the scientists eye at the end of a telescope, scoping
aliens who made the choice to avoid war hungry Mankind.

i'm stting, i'm thinking and i'm wishing
time could have frozen on that wistful day
a cold misty morning in the month of may
a day i discovered how a heart can whisper
and how a stomach can sometimes growl
against  the many who scheme and prowl
as they plot someone's downfall and demise
before it happens the system's alarm rings
an ominous melody about sly deception
i'm sitting here in my sorrow and aloneness
thinking and wishing sweets would come