Mint grew near the fence
Among blue daisies.
Did you plant it
Or was it already there?

You would say to me.
“Pick some mint,”
I always breathed in the scent
And tasted the bitter
coarse leaves on my tongue.

When the mint was chopped fine
You sprinkled it among
new potatoes.
A minty aroma filled the air
A fragrance that today
evokes childhood times
When we were happy.



If you don’t
visit us again.
There were words from which
I could not refrain.
I told the truth:
Too much for you to bear.
It changed your attitude.
You ceased to care.

And if we never meet again
I shall feel only
the slightest pain.
We managed separately
for years
So from me there will be
no tears.

If you don’t visit again,
It was good that we met
before I die.
And a good memory I retain,
Though you won’t visit
us again.


When you went
Into the morning sun,
Handsome, young and clean.
It seemed as though
For you life had begun
While we were shadows on
an ancient screen.

When you went
It was with gratitude,
But then our home has
always been, a place where
you could come regardless
of your mood
To eat, to wash and leave
refreshed and clean.

When you went
There was relief
For you seemed to have survived
the street.
Strengthening a strong belief
That Jesus guards your
every heart beat.


When you left, the branches of trees
became iron with metal leaves.
Clouds threatened the earth.
The chill air penetrated bones
And the empty streets stretched
endlessly nowhere.
When she called, there was no reply
Except for a song repeating
in her mind from when you were here,
Your arms around her and laughter
warming the soul.
Then leaves were green and
birds sang in the sunlight
And sparkling stars shone
from your eyes.


Translucent peach and silver sky
At evening as the small birds fly.
Oh! golden, golden, blush of light
Fills the soul with sheer delight.
Changing to rose and palest blue:
A Springtime sunset heaven drew
And painted with celestial fire.
Beauty beyond the heart’s desire!


Waiting in London.
Rain streaked in the chill
breathing damp air.
To the traffic’s din
In a sea of humanity
Clamped by concrete boxes
piled high.
Escape only comes with
night’s darkness,
Wrapped in the warm.
Thoughts can flow
Till sleep, the ultimate
freedom from existence.

Outside, is yesterday’s dream.
Inside, protection from
tomorrow’s inevitable chaos
Despite the filing systems
That people fit into.
Even the homeless have
their label, filed under ‘H’
sleeping outside empty churches
Until the police,
move them on.

Go to the park,
Find its fresh greenness,
The birdsong and the calm, cold, lake.
Run through the trees
until dusk sends you back home
to darkness without stars.
Just endless headlamps
Filed under ‘H’
And the sure knowledge that
you are filed under