Cloud-Arks

I want to board those

strange dark shapes of the horizon

those cloud-arks

fully-freighted and

already shipping out south on a

freshening breeze

bearing me

wherever they please.

Spring/Summer

The daffodils are blown, the

tulips past their best, the

blossom snows in

sudden squalls as

leaves unfurl and

Spring’s mayhem

slowly gives way to

Summer’s drab somnolence.

Candle Break

By candle-light you look like a

mediaeval Madonna, full of

thought, contemplation, perhaps a

little mourning for

what once was.

 

But am I allowed to make such a

comparison in a world full of

thought police, deciding exactly

which words I can safely use to

hymn my love?