Vanished History

Disembodied murmurs rustle through the corridors of stone
Happy voices blurred by time no longer tied to flesh and bone
Lost heirlooms, echoed sonants die or sadly ripple on alone

The Chiseler

I fear the tombstone's scrivener too soon has come
To charm with perjured pen and smiling yellowed teeth
By his demotic artifice am I struck dumb
This Cheshire cat so sweetly spins my funeral wreath

Schrödinger's Eyes

A far-off tolling bell has chased the clouds across the grass

The limpid sky is dreaming of a deep blue still to pass

Unfenced, lush fields now lap the line of trees atop the hill

But behind the sun-haze'd torpor unseen walls stand cold and still

Prisoners we, existing only under observation glass...

Water Tower

Solitary tree of stone
Stand tall to feel the wind
Horizon watcher, you alone
Rain's deep exile rescind

Within this skylake beats a heart
A concrete cavity
Cloud plunderer disguised as art
Enslaved to gravity

Mute

Each hazy day of summer brings the blackbird's golden cries
...while meadow'd insects hum
And only when the night approaches do we realise
...how silent is the sun
Hell's furnace'd beauty blazing right before our very eyes
...unheard by anyone

Sky Ladder

I slip between the black-trunked trees
On whose high faceless arches scud
The fleet and flimsy clouds of night
Upstream against the moon's pale flood

Carry On

Broken kerbs line grass-filled street
No sound of cars or leathered feet
While green reclaims the ground and skies

Half-crazed paving stones don't care
For glassless window-frame'd blank stare
Their sun-pools now bathe butterflies

Macadamed rivers stagnant now
Last rusting vestiges tell how
Thus souvenir'd, lost sentience dies