A poem #103 – Love song 

Moonrise grip
tideway slip
firm and cool
‘gainst the bare brick wall
on this the longest
of summer nights
beneath the veil
of waning coastal lights,
that same way you kissed me, then
that’s how I kiss you.

Red leaves crisp
under rising mist
hats and scarfs
along woodland paths
all in song with
Nature’s wish
under the canopy
of Autumn’s kiss,
that same way you held me, then
that’s how I hold you.

Cold air rings
deep lungs sting
calm and slow
in dusting snow
on this the clearest
of Winter’s days
amongst the still air
and vastness of the bay,
that same way you spoke of me, then
that’s how I speak of you.

Budding yawn
rose-fingered dawn
fresh and sweet
with temperate beat
on this the day
in waking spring
new arisings
all Godly things singing,
that same soft voice that sung, then
that’s how I sing of you.

JP Collins

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A poem #98 – Call it change

Put all of the offices at the bottom of the sea
one-thousand metres or more down,
they do nothing up here but spread our darkness
they know of no consequence, no bounds.

Put all of this triteness in a canning jar
and shake it vigorously around,
break up the monotony of this endless terror
where the notes disconnect from the sound.

Put all these tired, old problems aside
cut them into their objective parts,
these serve only to distance us from each other
to drive good people of the world apart.

Put all these learnt “differences” that drift aimlessly
together so they are no longer estranged,
weave them into a beautiful, vibrant cloth
and call it change:
call it change,
call it change.

JP Collins