You big and lumbering hairy mate,
What is left that you haven’t chewed?
After wolfing whatever is placed on your plate,
And then you are grovelling for food.
Dedicated to Ahmad Shiddiqi
Lines of energy pulse gently through the earth,
Golden rays of dawn lightly brush the ground,
Life is about joy and passion,
Not about misery and gloom,
We lose many friends along the way,
So let’s celebrate the people we have known.
The pale winter sun cast reflections from the wet winter grass,
When we walked down the slope past the brown runny bog,
Reflecting on the cries of men and knights running past,
Some falling wounded and dying in their desperate upward slog,
We walked up a narrow lane with mossy walls, the hairy one and me,
And when we ventured onto the moor, we were feeling free,
Our footprints take us up the heather clad slope towards the granite Tor,
And a sharp intake of breath the view the view stretching out over the moor.