Ordinary Poet

The Waterside

I took my weary spirit
To the August waterside,
And let the time and cares pass by
Till day had all but died.

I asked my weary spirit then:
What profit this release?
As evening drew its shadows long,
My spirit whispered: Peace.


Whatever decision I make will be wrong;
And I see now that that’s how it’s been all along.
How can I know when I’m faced with a choice,
Who will condemn with disparaging voice?
If I take time to ponder the options I see
Then it’s too late for one option even to be,
If I make a decision slightly too fast
Then I miss certain factors and that chance has passed.
Why do I wrack my brain trying to find
An answer that brings everyone peace of mind
When my efforts to satisfy all parties ends
In guilt ridden torment and unhappy friends?
I’m better off hiding inside and not trying
To help anymore. I am closing the door

Overseer of my Soul

Overseer of my soul,
When the dark despair
Would drag me to the hopeless pit
And leave me, empty, there,
Whisper hope, and keep me
Through the swirling torment grey;
There are dark roads yet to travel
Ere I see the light of day.

Overseer of my soul,
Behind, beside, before,
Each hour brings me closer to
That blessed clear white shore,
Where pain and sorrow find their end
And lonely strivings cease,
There, as the long dark falls behind,
I will find home, and peace. 

Tea at Four

Tea at Four, a perfect time
To sit and think on thoughts of mine,
To ponder as the water heats,
To look out at the quiet streets,
Then ease the bag into the brew
And steep it to a flavour true.
Pour the cup that warms the hands,
And breathe the steam of other lands;
I do so love my tea at four,
Just, please, not a.m. anymore.


Do not too deeply look into the darkness,
You will not see there what you hope to find.
Your seeing will not be an aid to caution,
Your thinking will take place outside your mind.
The fog that shrouds the lie lies undetected,
Whispering that here at last is peace...
Do not too deeply look into the darkness,
You will not find, once caught, a swift release.


It breaks upon the soul like sun-filled morning,
Following the terror of the night;
I lift my head to see what wasn't hidden,
Blinding beauty blinding not new sight.
Bright music dying ears were unattuned to,
Soft fragrance that enfolded unaware
Are weaving now new fabric of my being -
And light, such light, comes leaping on the air.


This deep dark sad - what is it?
I grieve a loss unspoken;
Yearning. Weeping. Dying.
Something, somewhere, broken.
Shadow. Hope for this world fades
And I hang on
To what I have of Heaven.

I see the space I live in
But cannot seem to fill it.
A cold stream courses through me:
My eyes betray and spill it.
Weary. Today, today, unending
And I begin
To plead for place in Heaven


I sit and dream alone this winter's night,
Afraid to sleep, but shattered by the light.
I pull the words out ragged and rough formed,
Frozen words that never will be warmed.
Perverse desire to paint this wretched view
Demands my mind turn yet again to you,
Though far away, too far away to see,
You sleep in peace and never think of me.

From Some Far Place

From some far, celestial place unobserved by human eye, He came,
Unfettered by the chains of time and space.
A mystery -
God’s vastness, concentrated in one tiny seed
Would grow to be a child of form and face.

She sat within the starlight and held Him while He slept,
Her firstborn child - she laughed with joy,
Would bear her sin and die – she wept.
Beyond the distant hills she thought she dimly heard a song…
Did angels sing?
Quietly she stored these things within her heart
And thought of what the years would bring.

Her husband stood beside her,
An ache to understand inside his heart.
The angel-dream had told him -
He had know about this moment from the start
And yet, Jehovah’s Son? his wife?
Could it be that they would give each other life?

From some far celestial place unobserved by human eye, He came,
A stranger to the weary race on earth.
A mystery -
He, Spirit, took on human life
To give us, human, Spirit birth.


It ended today;
a sad solitary life
I never understood.

Hope starts to rise with
Sunlight, fresh air and freedom;
Winter is over.

A desolate man
who never figured life out -
doesn’t have to now.

Speak what’s expected -
breathe the cold reality
no one ever hears.

Outside winter howls –
inside the candles flicker
and the night is calm.

Waves of fatigue wash
over me and leave me weak;
my life ebbing away.

Living should be more
than simply not being dead;
but sometimes it’s not.

The day's chaos past:
I sip a warm chai latte
And watch the snow fall.

Pain will claim it's time;
I must submit to that then
Grab what's left and live.

It just keeps coming,
Every minute every day;
I could turn it off.


only me said...

good work ordinary reader.....

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