first whiff of summer

birdsong and sunshine
and a first whiff of summer 
elderflower sweet 

renaissance clouds

Palaces, bridges, towers and bells,

The river is muddy from rain.

No light is in these narrow streets,

No poppies, no cherries,

No smiles and no sunbeams,

No laughing lips nor kisses.

I cannot understand the song

The wind is singing.

These palace walls

Are prison walls:

The hangman walked by here. 

balade toscane

sur la colline 
la maison, les oliviers 

sont seuls dans le vent 

to be back...

But oh for the mild glow

Of mellow old brick walls

Peeping through all shades of green

Of scented hills and valleys,

Ringing with blackbird-song.

And for the bright specks of red by the roadside

Of poppies that swing in the breeze,

Ripe kisses awaiting the harvest.

And for the sky so blue and deep

And humming with the everlasting

Music of the universe.

But oh for the ringing and singing of church bells

Swinging in steeples and towers of stone,

Singing of faith and of angels,

Of bloodshed and war and of fear,

Filling the air and the hearts

With their song.

Oh to be back…

february

wind and weather gods
are singing in the bare trees 
a song of changes 

for my friends

The evil eastern wind 

that cut through flesh and bone

and hurt my soul 

with light so bright 

and merciless

and shadows deep and sharp - 

no room was in those days

for dreams and hope -

the evil wind died down.

warm sun is on my face 

and birds are singing

of love and light

and better days to come

they warm my heart 

and by my loving thoughts 

may they warm yours! 

winter day

This winter morning

Silent, cold and bright

So blue grey white the sky:

Is it expecting snows and storms,

Or sudden raging bursts

of passion by the fireside?

Will sunshine come,

And birdsong,

Or silent clouds of snow?

Will peace be with us,

Or strife and struggle clamour

Through the world?

This winter day

So cold and bright

Has come and gone.

The stars are shining,

And Mars a fiery dot

So far, so far away.