Forgotten Country

I stand by a tree in the playground

of a deserted primary school.

One of thousands that education emptied.

Contraception, emigration

left the land with a wound

that may never heal.

The sound of laughter

torn from the heart.

These thoughts jar.

I kick the sand on the path,

my mind stirred.

The sadness of desertion

cannot be disguised.

.

I walk, there is no hurry,

across the valley

where the barefoot children

of yesterday, ran,

thinking of the stories children made

dying in the mouths of those

who stayed.

(disguised, forgotten, country, hurry, tree, wound, mind, sand, stirred, jar, across, yesterday)

Day Dream Location (wordle 100)

At home on a hilltop,

far from any street,

I stretch my eyes

across blue distant

folding hills.

.

The buzzard circles and calls

and March lambs

run through young grass.

Faint voices drift up,

of neighbours

in the valley below.

I train my eyes on them.

They check their mail boxes

and share news.

Their words die

before they reach this height.

Master of my own reality,

I create their conversations

and day dream.

Change places?

Not I

In my home

in the sky.

(Change, faint, street, stretch, places, calls, march, train, create, words, die, master, share.)

Outside the Patisserie - Wordle 99

Every move tells a story

of habit and use.

It's written on the body.

Intimate, we think we know,

but from an outsider,

a video,

or through a window glancing,

the story we knotted together

or our self

unravels.

The paint, the wraps,

(the fearsome parts

we think we have

so cleverly disguised),

fall away

and there, in the reflection

of a shop window

we see our mother,

our father.

Our 'take' on life

uncovered, raw, shocking.

Deep down in our hearts

or handbags

we have reserves -

building blocks of ego.

It may be chocolate

or prayers.

Om mani padmi om.

Enter and buy

chocolate eclairs.

Paint, use, outsider, away, fearsome, part, reserves, body, intimate, written, window

Highs and Lows

Wordle 98

Blue, blessed, deserves, first, gasps, instant, slap, snare, dust, unbalance, ride, wings.

Highs and lows

How can you unbalance

the scales

and tip them to touch heaven,

to feel the draught

from angels' wings,

without them swinging

down into the dust,

to feel the slap

the instant you hit the ground?

From the blessed blue heaven

to the snare of dark depression

the ride of life goes on.

At first one gasps

and screams and cries

and thinks it is only what one deserves,

but later, or sooner,

through thoughtful introspection

the balance

can be found.