hament Poetry (35)

Travelling along life’s road
hoping to find
a save haven
and welcoming pair of arms.

Surviving, but not living
is not enough

We all need someone
whether it is family, or more,
to give the emotional highs
and personal tranquillity, which is
the food of our souls.

Comparisons are onerous,
but when one has tasted the best
anything less is not acceptable.

Better to go hungry
and live on one’s reserves of memory
than risk the pain and discomfort
of some lesser substance.

I have been sustained by these feelings
and cannot accept anything less.

These pictures, and the thoughts they evoke
is manna to my soul.
Hopefully they will bring happy memories
to you.

Gaston

Under a Peace Rose
he rests,
surrounded by daffodils,
in the tranquility of an English garden.

Near to the woods he loved
over hanging a quiet river valley,
where all the seasons changes
were a joy to us.

In the Spring he ran through the Bluebells
parting them as if they were the sea,
Snow Drops the foam.
Banks softly glowing with primroses
like a sandy beach.

As the seasons changed, so did natures colours
The green and purple of the violets of summer,
multi shades of autumn brown,
and the white and gray of winter.
We loved them all.

Glimpses of pheasant, fox and squirrel.
The fleeting view of deer.
All the things that he enjoyed in life,
and dreamed of when he slept.

Now he can chase them for ever.

My sounding board and comfort in times of trouble,
he always trusted me and rewarded me
with unquestioning love and loyalty.
Always in my memory,
rest well my friend.

I love you still,
I always will.

A lonely future stretches ahead,
and I am getting weary.
My travels searching for another
companion unfulfilled

Yet the ever present feelings,
and memories of you,
support me in my daytime thoughts
as well as night time dreams.

Thank you for the past,
which will enable me
to face
the remainder of my time.

I love you still
and always will.

Your Birthday

I just remembered,
that I forgot,
your birthday!

Many years have passed
since we re-met,
never a birthday missed
until now.

Are you less in my thoughts?
The mists of time sometimes
thicken,
and soften the image
and for a while obscuring it
completely.

Then the soft breezes of memory
blow away the veil
and there you are,
forever unchanged in my mind

One day the mist may hide you
for ever,
on the day my eyes close
for the last time.

Perhaps we will meet again,
when we both have left this life,
and my dreams and hopes
might become a reality

Ideas float in the wind of consciousness
to be lost for ever,
or to touch someone,
germinate
and grow.

What happy combination of ideas
and acceptance
can make a common ground
to nurture such a happening.

Converting a concept from an idea,
into an understanding of minds and souls.
To forge a beginning, growing and maturity,
is a miracle of faith,
hope and trust.

" Without the sound of violins
there is no magic ",
a friend once said to me.

A simple statement,
but so true, about a mystery
so complex
that it defies unraveling.

Many have tried,
all have failed.

Able to describe
the wonderful feelings,
the heights of ecstasy, and depths
of despair.
The why and wherefore
were beyond their understanding.

Perhaps this is how it's meant
to be.
Happily, there still is magic
in the world.

I have been alone too long
wanting, but not finding
someone to love.

Too many disappointments
litter my past.
Mirages that seemed like paradise,
but shimmered and crumpled
into the dust.

Other hopes that gleamed
like gold,
but turned out to be of the fool’s kind
when melted and refined.

Far better to travel on, with hope,
down the road of life,
than settle in the land
of compromise.

Some things last for ever
unchanged,
a memory of sound or sight.
An emotion felt so deeply
that it is encased,
like a jewel.

To be taken out of the protection
of the mind,
Allowed to sparkle and shine
when the gloom of the day
needs the reminder of better times.

You say that you’ve changed,
perhaps you have.

To me you are the same soft, deep
beautiful person I knew,
know, loved
and will love always.

The lotus floats on the tranquil pond
aware of its roots
and from what it has grown.
It's beauty reflected by the still water,
warmed by the sun,
refreshed by the passing breeze.
So calm and yet so alive.

Hope


Are you the one,
who can break me free of the past.
To offer us a future in which we
can give and receive from each other
what is best in life.
Recapturing our separate joys of the past,
in a new shared beginning.
This is a new and fragile thing which must
be gently nurtured and cherished
so that it can meet the maturity
it deserves

The past is gone forever,
never to be revisited,
only remembered

Good and bad, joys
and sorrows.
All of these are there,
but the mind has softened
and altered the reality.

Joys are not remembered
with the clear pure and sharp
focus of the past,
but are re-coloured and clouded
by life’s changing pattern.

Sorrow’s sharp edges
blunted by the mind protecting itself
from memories too painful
to remember.

It is said that we should not dwell
on the past.
perhaps so,
but the future is unknown, the past
a security blanket to cling to
when all else seems
too difficult to bear.

The familiar is always more comfortable
than the staring blank page
of the future.

Pictures in a Gallery
just daubs of paint on canvas
and yet
in reality
a sum of dreams, hopes and inspiration

A visual representation
of more than words can say
an outpouring of emotions
in a form
that can be shared with others.

Panacea to the artists soul
and an outward signs
of an inner calm