'Think like a Poet'
the book advised
so I did and revised
the early work that I had done,
...
Pride, still variable, took command
and muted that loud, fanfare band
that heralded loves of longing born
and left them deafened, dumb, forlorn.
...
Kitchen assistant in white cap and coverall,
powder blue pinny, clicky clacky catering clogs,
is late...again.
...
The heat, like a sheet of melting bronze,
sears against the skin.
The bay, holding sway to the east,
...
I find, as I age, I care
less and less for the
colour yellow.
...
He walks through clouds while watching hawks
in the course of his working day.
Surefooted as the goats he tends, he treads
...
Time is not my enemy today,
like it was yesterday,
like it will be tomorrow.
...
It is not a day for Poetry,
its music would be drowned
out by the sound of knives being sharpened
and axes being ground.
...
Ketchup as red as Spartan blood
at Thermopylae
Brown sauce as rich as the eastern soil
from which its spices sprang
...
Undulating, almost sensual vase
with slashed, slanted lip
contains a plant I recognise
but could not ever name.
...