Gaia raging

hey, I get it:
the reason why you hide
why you’d rather stay inside
people can’t be arsed
to really look at you
so what else are you supposed to do?

I feel ya:
the grief at being underrated
daily unappreciated
unsubtle warning
displayed daily on the page
still no one listens, so you rage

I hear ya:
you’ve had enough so you show it
‘n people everywhere better know it
I’d fix it if I could
but I’m just a paltry party of one
a superficial soul, who – like you – has come undone

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observant skies

from the tops of old buildings
mossy gargoyles grin down
graffiti on the sides of fences
head constantly swivelling round

old finials and spires
mix with ancient weather vanes
hills in different shades of green
house heather borne of cold spring rains

she walks the cement pavements
tap-taps on cobblestone
followed only by the shadows
in a town where the sun once shone

copyright © 2020 KPM

September fancy

the sun is out today
‘n so is the wind
the wind thinks he’s my lover
his cold lips love to kiss my skin

the sun competes for my attention
with heartfelt embrace so warm
the wind reacts jealously:
he starts blowin’ up a storm

I sip my gin ‘n wonder
why do they battle over me?
the world’s so wide, so vast
they must have better places to be

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mostly, she’s danced alone
without care
lost in other visions
let those unknowing stare

she’d dance in cages
slow spins on top of bars
drunk men threw money at her
coins that flashed like falling stars

hear her singing
as she dances
in the grass, her skin aglow
for the flowers ‘n the clouds
she puts on a private show

chilled wine
on the table
sunbeam’s burning in the sky
she’ll never be too old to dance
because she’s still too young to die

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come August

so complicated
the relationship she has with
this particular swathe of days
love in the morning
mistrust in the afternoon
a butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling
that signals the monsoon

time cannot
be trusted
a trickster it has become
spilling wine in the evening
erasing sun from sky
early comes the darkness
on the wings of a seagull’s cry

copyright © 2020 KPM

a blether with a blackbird

‘n just what are you doing?
fancy stoppin’ here?
you’re welcome to do so
I promise you’ve nothin’ to fear

please pardon my attire
all these holes in my shirt
this is what I like to wear
when I’m diggin’ in the dirt

move over a wee bit
you might get tangled in my feet
what’s that – you’re feelin’ peckish?
have a dig – plenty bugs to eat

so what d’you think of my garden?
I can sit out here for hours
I so love this little space
think I should add more flowers?

wait, what’re you doin’?
I thought you wanted to play
wait a sec, come back
please don’t fly away

copyright © 2020 KPM

a Dundee Sunday storm

it was 16:05
when the sun came out
a huge smile crossed her face
she almost gave a shout

her sweet peas had survived
Mother Nature’s latest storm
‘n it smelled like Sunday dinner
inside where she was safe ‘n warm

another day of Skyping
all the people that she loves
cyber hugs ‘n kisses
cell phone’s electronic shoves

how did mankind end up here?
she struggles to understand
the hatred, the dissension
hallmarks of a once proud land

copyright © 2020 KPM

goodnight garden

goodnight garden
goodnight grass
if it doesn’t rain tomorrow
you’ll get trimmed at last

goodnight garden
goodnight trees
I would love to climb you
but I no longer trust my knees

goodnight garden
goodnight patio table
you’re old ‘n rusty now
but you serve as best you’re able

goodnight garden
goodnight lawn chair
your sturdy embrace
makes me feel as if you care

goodnight garden
goodnight sweet peas
caressing me with a scent
borne by the spring breeze

goodnight garden
goodnight wee pond
the bubbles on your surface
are so nice to look upon

goodnight garden
goodnight sun
of all my friends in nature
you remain my favourite one

goodnight garden
goodnight to each ‘n every flower
thanks for the joy you give me
every day, every hour

copyright © 2020 KPM


bramble boy

it’s early autumn
when he first comes
as seagulls fight
o’er cracker crumbs
her heart beats
like African drums
when she spies the bramble boy

autumn’s not
her favourite time of year
the days grow short
the skies are drear
yet she feels peace
seeing he is near
her steadfast bramble boy

leaves leap from trees
those we love die
the summer sun
deserts the sky
when the geese fly south
she wants to cry
‘til she sees the bramble boy

each September
in her garden appears
accompanied by the sound
of insectile cheers
he’ll spend the winter
quieting all her fears
her beloved bramble boy

copyright © 2017 KPM

Sunday worship

the roof is high
endless miles of miraculous blue
I gaze on it reverence
inspired by the view

so high is that ceiling
spare white clouds like wispy souls
for such a space I’m thankful
I know God’s at the controls

the floor is well-laid
older than countless years
its borne the weight of thousands
eons of shocks & tears

done in a hopeful shade of green
that must have taken hours
my heart dances in awed silence
while bees sing amongst the flowers

I’m a gardener, I’m a shepherd
paying no heed to the clock
sending praise to God above
as I tend my floral flock

& when at last the church bells ring
the words “Hi Mommy” leave my lips
it’s then I smell her in the air
she lightly clasps my fingertips

once again I’m reassured
the Lord has heard my anguished cries
my Mom is forever with me
her love is infiniteit never dies

copyright © 2017 KPM