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The Skylark

A fletched fanfare to the field
Pulses upward
Ladders the air
No regalia for this herald:
A flickering tattered grey-brown speck
Yet he cascades his song
Like a million pieces of silver
Glorying the sky
Owning the hunkered down, machine-torn hedges,
The tilled and tamed expanse beneath
Daring the wind, taunting
I’m here, he cries, I’m here
Awakening the wild joy in our hearts
Bone-bred memories of open heath and grassland.

Robert Lindsay
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Change

As  I stand with my feet in the ocean, and look at the setting sun, I think of how many me's, have stood in how many seas, but always stared at the same one. A snapshot of scenes in the movie of me, at various times of my being. A new version of me every single time; the same star I'm always seeing. It fills me with curious wonder, for the places that I may go; And the life that has yet to happen, and the things I have yet to know. Jess
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Seasons

To each a season: the planets Turn in Kepler's gyre, Swelling the mental weather, Fattening the wealth Of light and dark I weekly Feel in my own solitude. To each a season: a death Of what was hard and cold: A burst of sun to break My hoary sadness And gild the shining tower I build around your smile. But let's not talk of sun But speak instead of life And all the things I feel When living through mortality. The lovely times We feast and meagre times We only feed on memories. I have my seasons. Tim Holt-Wilson
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To Shed My Youthful Skin

To Survive Against at the odds of secure authorities And recognised establishments. I shed my youthful skin. I Thrive Against the odds I flourish and prosper Desolate and torn by institutions. The arrogance of the untouchables. Anon.
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Fly me in Feathers

Weighted with weariness worn down by worry I search the skies with longing. Fashion me with feathers float me up high cushion me on your magic carpet and let me ride above clouds. The lark vanishes. Lightness of spirit, more a song than a bird. Clothe me in quills, speed me on soaring wings, lift me above the limits of my chronic fatigue. A seagull floats, gently drifting on air currents in effortless motion. Dress me in down, soft as snow-white geese, yearning for family that call to me like seabirds from across the ocean. Julia Duke
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Collapse is not an option

My own weight on the chair feels firm on firm foundation Collapse is not an option Reflecting on those lines A simple chair gives rise to heartfelt reassurance and collapse is not an option The touch of hand on hand so absent and so longed for but collapse is not an option Reflecting on those lines I sit with vivid memories which touch my heart to singing so collapse is not an option These past months steep my core with deepest contemplation while collapse is not an option Reflecting on those lines I touch these pages fondly My journal holds my feelings Collapse is not an option. Lynne Nesbit
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Sweet Diatoms

Sweet diatoms You make me smile Algal atoms Too small to see But for my eye Peering microscopically Your fiddly frames Of filigree silica Seem big to me Tim  
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