Spring fever

In this soft morning

drowsy water shimmers

where the lake sloughs

its outgrown shell

sun in the cedars

gilds worn snow

all trembles gently

against the coming green


Here waterlilies still breathe their dreams of love

in our diesel busy city

singing jade praises to light

their blossoms’ glory,

wintered in mist and memory,

now made flesh, spirit, bone, laughter

share the dragonflies’ erratic delight

and hum a tune of Zion

learned by lanky goslings

in Babylon

Reap roses,

tread the clay,

beyond the rapid foam of threshing days

and flesh-flashy nights,

of making hay and other delights,

lie still the pools

where the salmon waits

late fall Night

moonlit snow hushes

the shingles

and a slow fire licks

the iron stove

while the kittens are learning

how to purr

the queen brings

a night gift wrapped

in red

a mouse to play with

In the Old Country

Horses graze around the mound in the meadow

that once was a castle and a home

the heroes and the children gone into the green

their dreams echoed only by the irises

that flame beside the pond

in sapphire glory

war and peace

I have seen the black bull tear the red land

I have seen the elephant

Do not speak to me of glory

Or the nobility of the lion

Give me the blue buck

On the green hill

And the small rain falling

The snowflake on moss

dreams dancing as sunlight

on ocean waves

A B eh?
see hungry schools, mates, in the court courting
move and turn as the current surges, urges
between reefs of bright choral clothing
brushed by waving trends of weed,
around cool deep dark crack,
break, your mother’s back.
swim there, step on it
swim in the warm,
the heat and beat
ah ecstasy now
we rely on
new plan B
it’s always
now, me,
mi amore

I saw seven goldfinches
in the plum tree today
three shone bright
like dandelions in the grass
the others brown as branches
all busy among the blossoms
together hawkbait and nestminders
no room for career choice here.

Pond Song


see the waterlilies


their jewelled dreams of


in our diesel busy city


Many froggy praises to jade


crooning a moose’s crown


of tangled blossom and mud dripping


harmonising their chorus to


with memories of adamantine


and the dragonflies’ erratic


then hum opalescently a tune

of Zion

learned by lanky goslings

in Babylon