I danced on a quay at Emsworth
playing a really big drum
The crowds from the town all following us
and everyone having fun
I danced with Pride in Brighton
‘neath a rainbow coloured flag
The crowds of people partying
in the sun made me feel glad
Like a strong hand to lift my soul
Music comes again
And as my rock begins to roll
Sunshine comes to play
Like a fishing net to catch my blues
Music drains away
All the cobwebs which have gathered
In the corridors of grey
Prevailing sou’ westerly blows
across this grey-green sea
but the sunshine warm, encourages
so I’m content to be
Staying here throughout the day
to watch the sea out there
as white-capped waves comes into shore
with constant rhythm shared
Loose a bright and strong ray of sunlight,
Wrap it twice, nice and tight around my neck,
And string me up to hang from the plastic stars
That glow in the dark above your bed each night.
Sometimes when no one is watching
I will dance around my name
with a loud drum always banging
which never sound the same
Yes, it’s always rhythmic
but the pattern’s one of change
Its signature and syntax
quite often rearranged
A somber fear grows deep down
That, ere I near the mountain crown,
Silent tears will slip off eyelash cliffs
And tumble down the deep abyss,
As flames lick and lame my knee
Forcing me to falter and flee
To hours of painful descent in defeat,
Beaten by gravity, compelled to retreat.
Gritting my teeth, head bowed in shame,
Drooped with the burden of bearing the blame.
The sun was shining on the bay that day,
And in its radiance I thought I saw the way
To my salvation from this, damn lonely, place.
“Liberation” was written on your face.
You left the beach before I learned your name,
And the memory of your face began to fade
Until that day I found you in the Kyoto snow.
When you gave me your hand, I knew I’d never let go.
The wooden floors vibrated
from the sound of many drums
Rhythm everywhere around
enjoyed by everyone
And I danced to special timbre
pulsated by the beat
from heart and soul and head and hands
right down to my feet
Rhythm of the rails
strikes a resonant chord
Music for the morning
and the commuter hoard
Newspapers folded
Tablets fired up
with caffeine boosters
from paper cup
Gathering momentum
into the Weald
Heading for London
through Sussex field
In the small hours when
silence is my company
And my pen scribbles words
as they flow fancy free
The verse and the rhyme
to the page come with ease
So this is the time that
the poet will seize
With reflections in puddles
as I’m walking along
the timbre of my thoughts
falling naturally to song
the rhythm of the world
helps me hum a little ditty
as it’s mirrored down there at my feet
looking really pretty
Poet's Corner 