Young Love

map on the wall
directs me to the door
into darkness
where bespectacled pillows
sleep soundly
beneath flowering carpets
and undone shoes
whose feet scream
for peace 

picture on the wall
shows me the window
through a mountain
of whiteness
over a sea of tears
and foxglove seeds
whose hands reach
for eternity

letter on the table
takes me through time
into eternity
where i'm a mere pen
in your hand
writing down laughter
where the lines on your face
should be

 

18 January 1972 apparently 'unfinished'. Goodness knows where my mind was heading. Uncertainty and a fellow St Andrew's student Jim Robson influenced this, one of the first in a new style I began then.

Silent March

A thousand feet march a million miles,
Their orders an unwritten law.
Above their heads, forcing their smiles,
Flies the blood red banner of war.

From hamlets of life dead cities arise,
Amid newborn strife laughter's child dies,
Love's churches fall in rough shallow graves,
Deafeated saints crawl, condemned to be slaves

By an unspoken word from an unknown mind
In a land of anyone where no-one is kind, 
And seas of sorrow wash shores of sadness,
Where hate makes dark any glimmer of gladness.

A thousand hearts cry a million tears,
Their desire a mere open-mouthed stare.
But nobody, nobody, nobody hears -
There's nobody, nobody there. 

 

17 January 1972

Where you live

Elephants fly in the sky
Where you live
And crocodile's friends drink tea,

And hippos always keep dry
Where you live
Where the moles can easily see.

Giraffes they go for walks
Where you live
Holding hands with the mice in the air

And the wise owl eternally talks 
Where you live
Whilst badger paints his lair.

I could pack my whole world in a case
Where you live, 
Including a sky blue and fair,

And I've got a smile on my face
Where you live.
Just wish that I could be there.

Dear Santa

For Christmas I'd like a racing car
Like Jimmy got last year
And a soldier and guns and army things
Like Jimmy got last year
And a plane that flies on its own
And a lorry that tips up
And a cowboy hat with tassles
And a gun that shoots real bullets
'Cos I wanna shoot Jimmy
'Cos I don't like Jimmy
'Cos he got lots of things
Last year
And I didn't
And I'm not speaking to Jimmy
And anyway 
Jimmy's bigger than me
And it's not fair.
So you've gotta help me Santa,
'Cos daddy won't.

 

December 1971 For some reason I really like this one. Has to be read faster and faster up to the last two lines. 

The Further Adventures of Unwin and Arthur

When Unwin and Arthur got home that night
They sat down to curry and beans.
They lit a candle and turned out the light
Then witnessed incredible scenes -
Natanielle came in and jumped on a plate
and started to dance all around,
Whilst the pair were amazed - how could she create
Such delicate steps with no sound?
"Must be dreaming," said Unwin to Arthur the bear,
"Or I've drunk just too much of your booze."
So assuring each other it wasn't her there,
They ate their fill and sat back for a snooze.

6 December 1971 Unwin was a furry pink elephant, Arthur a white teddy with a blue bow and I invented Natanielle (in my mind she was a tiny elephant dancer).

A Child In Autumn

Leaves tumble gently to the mossy floor,
Softening his footsteps,
Easing his breathless hurry to the sun.

Wind whispers crisply through the sparsely-clad branches,
Caressing his heart,
Cooling the sweat on his worried brow.

Light flickers down on to welcoming late flowers,
Opening their eyes,
Brightening the path to a land they'll not ever see.

Like a watery world of wonder
A tear drops,
Falling with a leaf, landing lost on the ground.

Then another tear falls from the silhouette sky,
Pitying his sorrow,
Crying out for Mother to comfort, to care. 

Ferns softly stroke his little body,
Searching his mind,
Feeling for his hand to guide him home.

Tall trees slowly sway in their world above,
Beckoning him on,
Reaching up through the clouds for another hand.

As light fades the paths seem the same in the grey -
Turn back, turn around, turn again -
Lost.

Now flowers close with his eyes,
Dew mingles with his tears,
Night falls with his hopes of home.

Perhaps come morning
The late sun will rise
Once more
And a dying world 
Will make one last attempt
To take him through the forest of time -
And make good his escape
From the coming clutches of winter -
So that they may all
May finally sleep
Until Spring.

 

16 November 1971  

That She Loves Me

Arthur and Unwin went for a walk along the sands on the shore.
They had just had tea at Panda's place and were feeling pleasantly sore.
Arthur lay flat on his back on a dune and stared at the Moon above 
Whilst Unwin tried hard to tie knots in his tail
To remind him in case he forgot.

Panda had told them "Don't be late 'cos I'm tired,
And feeling incredibly dizzy -
'Twas the tiger, I swear, tying knots in his hair,
To remind him in case he forgot."

Then Arthur leapt up. "I'm asleep." he did cry.
"Rubbish!" said Unwin, "You're not!"
And promptly proceeded to knot Arthur's bow
To remind him in case he forgot.

The night was still young and nowhere a cloud
So the two of them started to talk.
"Don't you agree, my dear Unwin," said Arthur quite loud,
"That the air smells distinctly of pork?"
"No, it's ham or roast lamb," the elephant replied,
"With maybe a touch of plum jam."
"As you please," said the bear, who was combing his hair,
Whilst Unwin swayed with the breeze.

"Anyway, it's time to go home," they both said together,
As they romped through the sand on all fours -
Across the grass, tying knots in the stars -
To remind them in case they forgot,
Of course.

 

25 October 1971