Saturday, 7 November 2020

Lamp posts

It is pitch black outside
You can only see under the projection 
Of spaced street lights
And even they are surrounded by fog.
It would seem eerie,
But tonight 
The glowing mist
Is the electricity 
We are feeling - 
That high hope
Above the cold,
Damp pavement
The lamp posts dim,
But winning.


Copyright LJ 2020

Sunday, 25 October 2020

The Flowers



Flowers 
Are scooped up pages,
Petals in cupped hands
With writing we cannot see
But each stem holds
 A story from the Earth.
We give each other these words,
While saying something else.
I
Hope
The Flowers
Don't 
Mind.




Copyright LJ 2020

Beauty

Trying is exhausting.

When I sit

And see beauty

For what it is,

There is energy.


Copyright LJ 2020

In the Midst


In the midst of
Chaos
Or
Peace
We must still
Pause
To
Reach
The beautiful things so
Hard
To
See
Yet always there.




Copyright LJ 2020

Saturday, 17 October 2020

Sharing


It is dark around me,
Winter dark.
The surfaces are touched with frost
Like the thin layer of sadness on me.
I try to make the most
Of the clear sky 
And look up -
Above the rooves and the roads
With the man-made lights,
Above the space
Around me
Of things I can't explain,
And see the singular stars 
Of this night.
I don't know what they are saying, 
Or what sign they are showing,
But they too are standing
Out in the cold
And for a moment,
We are sharing.


Copyright LJ 2020.

Sunday, 11 October 2020

Energy


I give so much 
Energy
To
Fixing myself
When
Finding myself
Creates
More.


Copyright LJ 2020.

Saturday, 10 October 2020

Streams


Our minds are unique oceans
In goldfish bowls,
With colours we cannot always name
And some waves without a way yet,
Bubbling over each other,
Beauty circling without an escape.
Sometimes it takes another, looking in,
To see the sophisticated patterns the 
Swirls make against the glass 
And call out the streams. 



Copyright LJ 2020

Friday, 2 October 2020

Waves

I walk along a beach
And as the tide comes in
So does a friend
That helps me decorate
The sand with seashells,
Or fights with me against
The sea wind.
Then they retreat
As the sea goes out
And I don't know why.
But as I keep walking,
The tide returns
With a new face
In the waves.
I think maybe it's because
There are shapes to be made
On this part of the sand -
I am on a different part of the shore,
That only the water knows
And gathers in for. 
 
Copyright LJ 2020.

Lamp posts

It is pitch black outside You can only see under the projection  Of spaced street lights And even they are surrounded by fog. It would seem ...

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