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Shadow & Light

March slides into April as showers wave winter farewell

Days dawn ever lighter, bluebells dock the dells.

One final march through chapel doors, dressed head to toe in black

A last dirge from organ pipes, one more family plaque.

 

Sunny May arrives as swiftly as Shiva’s arrow flies

Church bells peel, confetti fills cotton-clouded skies.

Darkness lurks in shadows, on penitents as they pray,

Smiles adorn faces on children in their play.

 

Winter lies forgotten lost in days just passed

Hearts lifted at village fetes about the green and grassed.

Laughter chimes out often as barbies fire and smoke

Guitar strings stroke the air while sisters smile and joke.

 

© @paulmkitchen

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CHURCHILL AT REST

 

He sits at ease on his bronzed bench

Viewing proceedings with measured distaste.

Deep in thought, reminiscing of times past

When a Nation stood upon the brink of precipice.

 

Where valiant hearts fought to their last breath,

Hundreds of thousands of tremulous hearts silenced

That we might feel tonight’s early evening breeze cool

Gladdened cheeks whilst gazing at a vast indigo sky.

 

We cannot know whether it was worth such weighty sacrifice.

Oh, we think we do with our Poppy Day appeals

And our solemn mid-morning salute as we mourn.

But the cost cuts deepest with the noble few left behind.

 

And you know just by looking at those steely eyes,

He counts the cost every day as he sits contemplating

What may have come to pass but for vainglorious hearts.

He broods that grave equation along each furrowed brow

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A poem for you if you’ve ever lost in love or lost someone close: how we remember them

 

SOFT-PADDED FOOTPRINTS

Your laughter hides there, waiting patiently

At the far edges of your mouth,

Ready to possess every pore of your face

From the corners of your crows-feet eyes,

Sweeping gently down those familiar

Lemon-scented, quick, curled lips.

Like soft-padded footprints

Stretched across warm desert sand,

Your smile keeps me company

Long after you have left the room,

Leaving me anticipating your arrival

Emerald eyes pin me where I stand.

Wherever I walk, at all gatherings

Of family clans and meeting friends,

Your laughter walks always with me

Even though photos and memory are

My only evidence left behind

Of your ever being here at all.

 

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Healthy breakfast was a surprise this morning

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Being an early riser I normally jot a few ideas, thoughts or lines of poetry if I’m feeling really creative then turn my mind to breakfast.

A creature of habit, breakfast comprises a small selection of options ranging from indian omelette to scottish porridge oats depending on my mood. Imagine my surprise today when I opened the fridge door and decided on a whim to make a fruit and yoghurt medley in a burst of healthy eating.

What’s quite surprising is just how refreshing and delicious this was, so I’d urge you to give it a try as it was made in 5 mins for those in a hurry to get out to work and is wonderfully great for your body.
* Duchy fat-free yoghurt from Waitrose
* Lemon – juice, one squeezed slice
* Red seedless grapes – 6 or 7
* Honeydew melon – 2 slices chopped into chunks
* Mixed unsalted dried nuts (optional) – small handful, almonds and walnuts work best

Place the fruit into your bowl, add the lemon juice to wake up the fruit, then drizzle 3-4 dessert spoons of yoghurt across the fruit and add the nuts to garnish.

Yum. I know you’d like a photo but it didn’t stay in the bowl long enough for me to find my iPhone, sorry!

I’m not too worried about turning into a health freak, as I still find my head turning to a perfectly constructed bacon sandwich or even better a Lincolnshire sausage and egg muffin from time to time. Mmm, looks like tomorrow’s breakfast might be planned already.

Sara’s Key

Like the One Ring from ‘Lord of The Rings’
I must be secret, I must be safe
Buried years before this house was built
Interred and innocent until touched by Sara’s hand
My creative flow grows with every captive day
Feel how I softly whisper in your eager ears
Stroke me, find the door and turn the lock
Never stop in your quest to open the gateway
Notice how you almost forgot about me
Lying here at the bottom of your old jewellery box
Only seen in those precious moments by yourself
When you hold me in your hands turning, dreaming
These twenty years and still I speak only to you
Weaving my spell over you, again and then again
As you search to unlock those secret boundaries
Of your unbound imagination where I will set you free
©️ paulmkitchen

The back garden

thegreenfingeredpoet

Seed searching coal tits flitter in the bushes
A blackbird spied high up on his perch
His hybrid song cuts through the wood-pigeon calls
Whilst the Yorkie revels on his back bathing in fox scent

Bright-bloomed azaleas blush the summer house border
Goldfinches dive to the seed-scattered path
A stray burst of early summer breeze ripples silver birch leaves
Then dies as swiftly as it came leaving a moment’s hush

A neighbours strimmer buzzes like a bee on steroids
Sets the magpies cackling in rowdy disagreement
Midges hover in their mid-air cloud dance
The Noon sun warming my arms as I scribe each word

© @paulmkitchen

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The back garden

Seed searching coal tits flitter in the bushes
A blackbird spied high up on his perch
His hybrid song cuts through the wood-pigeon calls
Whilst the Yorkie revels on his back bathing in fox scent

Bright-bloomed azaleas blush the summer house border
Goldfinches dive to the seed-scattered path
A stray burst of early summer breeze ripples silver birch leaves
Then dies as swiftly as it came leaving a moment’s hush

A neighbours strimmer buzzes like a bee on steroids
Sets the magpies cackling in rowdy disagreement
Midges hover in their mid-air cloud dance
The Noon sun warming my arms as I scribe each word

© @paulmkitchen

Invisible Wings

Just because you sometimes make decisions that limit your purpose

Wreak havoc in the lives of those closest to you

Like a wrecking ball obliterating porcelain sculptures

Don’t think, even for an instant, my compassion is dimmed

 

You once lifted the veil on the mystery of your true spirit

I carry that image with me always as a permanent prompt

Of your sacred vulnerability and your mystic name

The memory of your invisible wings

 

Yes, I’ve watched you circle wagons around your victims

Whenever your fears overcome your perfect grace

I’ve witnessed your habitual virtue voiced in your daily kindnesses

Wrapped in the warm blankets of your benign actions as you walk your path

 

copyright protected – @paulmkitchen