Blab

I pretend not to listen when you talk in your sleep

Where have I been for so long?

It has been a long time since I was on the blog. Life stuff, you know how it is.
Here is a nice picture which I took on Iona. The more I go to Iona, the more I learn to love God free beauty.

Diane

The first man who ever made love to me
Was 10 years older than me
I could see good and evil in his eyes
When we lay in the sun soak
Wrapped in cotton grass and rye
He was an adult in a corrupt world
That was the truth of it
He was the beginning of the fall
He was a back alley in the early hours
A Pandora's box
A £10 wrap, the spot light and the clap

I have a locket of his fair hair
Here on my breast where you stare

Sabbath Breakers

On Flanders Moss

I saw her walk towards me with the dawn
She moved through the plantation along the old railway line
Purpose and promise without sleepers
It took her about ten minutes from emergence to greeting

In the clearing, face to face
She spoke me with the familiarity of a pastor
She enquired about my journey , my hometown and my day

I told her I was going to walk the Forth to Easter Offerance
She told me it was terribly wet and that I should go easy.
She was worthy and uncomplicated
Like a pilgrim, like a holiday

The lady on the Moss
Had taken the new bridge from Aberfoyle
She had bought blessings and Fresh bread

The clouds were clearing
And hope in spate
She said the river is the source of everything
We wished each other well
Parted
And went on our ways

The Small Isles

She wanted to live on an island
Because she found the continents too big

Having given up hope of eternity
This was the one life to live

Sea

Aqua blue
Blue eyes
Open in the sun strewn blue
A blue dream state
Utopia of the mind
That falls into the light
Of deep descending
The aquatic bird finds freedom
In the indefinite hue
The vast expanse of empathy
In infinity
The endless time and expanse of the fall
That thrills in the calmness of sedation
The touch of blue
Cool on the dawn day
Alone in waters
All alone in the currants and streams
Of this self
Of free falling thought
A body descending through care to comprehension
Like everything ever
Like the picture of the ocean on the apartment wall
Like salmon finding the city
The exquisite freedom of being
All that is blue
Like the weight of water
The instinct of the embryonic state
This semi-biotic fluid of imagination
The total immersion
The baptism
Adoration of this innocent free state
Swirl and swift thrive in the energy
Of submersion
The enlightened
Bends
Clear headed conversion
The cry
The call
The stream
The water falls

Fisticuffs

Words failed them