In a time of deep uncertainty

with my NuBlaccsoUl in ruins.

The kingfisher Ja bade me follow Creepstar

To the mystical place

In search of grace,

beyond sheer Pradip mountains

Where the clear crisp ink of fountain flows.

Here the saints of Ignatius

stop to quench their thirst.

The journey held danger

when I came upon a stranger

I became enchanted by the spells

of a mischievic Pixievic.

Spell bound I watched entranced

  the sheer dexterity of the Busbar dancer

Whereupon My poor dark soul

fell deep in a hole.

I was taken through the worst by Steven Langhorst

To arrive safely at the hallowed grounds of Newvango

Where now I see

the Paradise in me.

I am but a nation,

Torn to pieces

My poor broken heart

left to scatter apart

Like a flag,

Abandoned to the breeze

And the mercy of whichever way

The winds may take me.

My colours are faded

And split apart

Representing the many different parts

Of my life.

Red is my passion

And love in my heart,

White is where my thoughts and feelings

Are at their most pure,

Green is for growth

And my love of nature,

Yellow is my cowardice

Of which I am ashamed,

And black

Contains all possibilities.

In singularity each only represents

Part of me

Only when colours unite together

To unify my soul

Will you ever

Get to see me whole.

I scattered words

Upon the tattered remnants

Of my soul,

Hoping one

Might make me whole.

A few years ago when my eldest boy

Was still at primary school

He took Jasper with him.

This is a stone

Reputed to have mystical properties.

After school I asked how his day had gone.

"It was like I was famous" he said.

"Girls were chasing me

All over the playground,

It was horrendous!"

"I'm taking another one tomorrow!"

Children scurried ***** as rats

From the long dead smouldering

of rocks and boulders

To watch captivated

Enraptured by the sight

Of tiny parachutes floated from the sky.

Tiny handkerchiefs of hope

Descended as gently as leaves in a breeze

As the candy bomber

Wiggled his wings

And presented sweet things

Packaged as hope

Delivered with love

To let those know that though

They may be woe begotten

To some at least they were not forgotten.

Take me on a journey

Whisked away by your poetry

Let me exhale my mind

And be at one with your kind.

Lead me away like the fey

To poetry journalists

And HB specialists

Who like Toreinss Pinwinkle

Sprinkle fairy dust upon words and phrases

Until all who gazes are stunned.

Take me to where sk abdul

ski slopes

Where words formed

With ice cold precision

Fall soft as snowflakes

Forming landscapes in my mind.

My mind wanders with Luiz

Until with an elbow crack, I’m back

Tuned in a spin, by Ryn

Heeding Laurent’s call

Away from the dark places Mr Woods may take me

To be at one with the shadow in the dark,

Because as someone anonymous once said

“it’s sometimes light

but can be dark

as poetry is not

just a walk in the park”.