My heart is held in icy grip
A biting wind now takes my breath
Along the path I struggle and slip
Before me dance the wraiths of death.
...
speaking of shocking things
as people do these days
i noted an incident in the centre last week
which really made my blood run cold
...
We gather today to wish you health -
Wæs hæl, wæs hæl a toast to all;
For you we raise a glass for wealth
A heartfelt toast that's not too small.
...
Spare a moment to salute the dead;
(Grieve oh grieve for victims who died!)
Facing religious extremists in dread,
For their god their lives denied.
...
The morning wakes: the sun’s misty rays
Touch yonder crest
Of Middleton Wold above the hazy vale
T’wards the distant west.
...
I Hear the Church Bells Ringing Now
- A Land of Milk and Honey
The bells now ring across the vale
...
Where Moses Crossed the Nuwebian Shore
He ponders the tide caressing the beach -
...
1831
At my desk I sit and stare,
An etching, old, dusty and grey -
...
I hear the waves below the cliffs,
I smell the new-ploughed soil,
I hear the gentle whirr of bees
And watch the clouds pass me by.
...
So what is memory? Why so fleeting?
It catches the soul when time has passed -
Recollections so soft and warm,
But ‘neath the tree asleep she lies.
...
A murky mist now grips my brain.
My thoughts, they reel in mire so chilling;
My eyes see nothing but driving rain;
Despair is such, no hope instilling.
...
The freezing draught deeply bites;
A grey-robed priest now shuffles past
"Let us Pray" the rector cites,
My collar I raise, I glance at the words.
...
Ah, little woodlouse,
wood-rot emerging,
light-avoiding, damp-a-seeking
along the path you crawl.
...
One day soon, so soon, thought Poppy
I'll walk and walk on the moon with Moppy
"She's funny and strange! " said Poppy
"So weird she has three pegs for legs."
...
Through hopeless gloom and chill I stare,
With icy drops on branches wet,
No longer distant hills I see in sunlight glare
My memory dim, my eyes are blurred - and yet
...
I stroll along the winding track
That leads me down to Millington Wood;
The sun is warm upon my back -
I pause, and look where once we stood.
...
Poppy alone, so tired, so bored,
On the bench, shiv'ring and cold,
By all her lovely friends ignored.
'Poppeeee! ' - a voice so clear and bold.
...
The Church
My heart is held in icy grip
A biting wind now takes my breath
Along the path I struggle and slip
Before me dance the wraiths of death.
So bleak the church ahead I knew,
Grey and spectral in ghastly glow.
The tumbled tombs and gnarled yew
And drunken headstones covered in snow
The lych gate beckons with moonlit chill;
A frosty welcome offers me.
An ashen light from shuttered grill
What solace there can find for me?
Along the frosty path I tread
In wretched pain and hapless grief.
The door creeks open, with deathly dread
I step inside, but no relief.
Here death pervades the icy air;
And now amongst the ghastly flock
Whose twisted bodies sit and stare
I sit: my memories I try to block
The air is bitter, no warmth I feel
My fingers freeze in icy air
On bench I sit, on floor I kneel
No comfort now I find in prayer
I hear the preacher preach
Absolving all by Godly prayer
Of joys eternal he tries to teach
But thoughts of joy are dim I swear
“O Lord, make haste to help us.”
The priest now mutters – a plea indeed
“And make thy chosen people joyful.”
O, how can joy be so decreed?
No joy I find in here displayed,
As death pervades the arctic cold;
I swear to God in all I prayed
That joy for me would ne’er unfold.
I join a world, of gruesome dead
A nightmare grim in mortal terms
The ghoulish priest in fear and dread
My life and death he now confirms.
I slump and fade; I sigh and then……
No thought, no feeling; I dream no more,
I reap the sleep of sinful men;
In death I rest and live no more.