Poetry….
….. Nature-inspired
A Tranquil Hour Upon the Heath and Wood ….
A tranquil hour upon the heath
In company of dragonflies with diaphanous wings, and butterflies,
To while away an hour of life
In fulfilment, beneath June skies
Of azure blue;
And to wander through the cool
Of woods; brush the ferns of emerald green
That act as a foil for the dragonfly’s diaphanous wing
As she flits through her dappled, jade domain.
Sunlight coming through the trees,
A refreshment to the breeze
That only morning-time can bring,
And all the while, the gentle singing
Softly, upon the air of tranquility,
That descends upon the mind and soul
That brings alive an inner spirit.
27-6-19 after a walk on Ruislip heathland…. and woods
A wild tangle of sweet peas, roses, honeysuckle,
Cascading, tumbling over the fence,
Fruits, ripe blackberries, from whence,
In spring, will come new life to every corner.
To every corner, freshness; green.
Now, tangled fruits and leaves, and flowers,
With lushness, and some, touched by the passing hours
Take one season to the next.
And still the scent of gardens taints the air;
Dampening grass and misty leaves
And ripe fruits in the trees, and shortening days.
Trees rustle with a dry, and crisp sound
And single twirling leaves, take first Autumn to the ground.
And cottage gardens bear a yield,
A golden drift,
And walls glow mellow in the sun
And tubs of flowers overflowing to the brim
With colour, tumbling down like waterfalls
And through the coloured air another season calls.
And you realise in a moment’s thought,
A tiny moment captured; special.
Beyond all mortal words.
Suzanne Munro
On the lighter side….
The Online Piano Teacher….
Piano lessons with running water
And squabbling sons and squabbling daughters
And siblings running round in ‘jamas –
But the piano teachers are not alarmist:
And take everything in their stride,
And are not phased by the tide
Of oddities from on-line teaching;
Mild eccentricities that are not far reaching
(For they stay within music room walls)
As I listen to the calls of family communication,
Confined to our homes, as we are as a nation.
Shirtless torsos and uncombed hair,
But the piano teacher doesn’t care:
They’ve seen it all before:
So no matter I am beyond closed door,
Sibling squabbles and music lost;
Sometimes order, sometimes chaos –
Cooking tea with the piano lesson,
In a next door room the Zumba session….
Chatting to friends, and family life,
Unmade beds and other halves in dressing gowns:
All could cause a teacher strife.
Piles of cushions on ill fitting stools,
Many young players have neither music nor tools –
Things not printed:
No pianos for some…
All could make a teacher rather glum.
I am taken upstairs to rummage for music
And to talk to Tee-shirtless brothers;
Parents are elsewhere: to be searched for
And messages hollered to fathers and mothers:
You assume they will re-appear in a bit –
But then get a message
“MUM SAYS HE’S ON THE TOILET !”
There’s yelling, to “keep the music down!”
To siblings – enough to make the teacher frown:
But we are trained as musicians to not be distracted:
So shouting; calling; pyjamas: half naked
Does not mean that we will not make it
To the end of the lesson:
….KEEP CALM, CARRY ON, and give the impression
You have seen, and heard nothing –
“Theres’ more music to do….”
Even when you’re told
“DADDY”S ON THE LOO !. ….”
April 2020
Human emotion….
What when you are all alone?
What then?
It is then that the ink of salt tears flows from the pen….
Suzanne Munro 20-9-20
Today there are no shades of grey.
Only black.
All-enveloping bleakness of black,
That clings to your back
Like a damp mist.
There is no wind to move this mist on,
Wrapping me, as it does in its never ending song
Of gloom that pains.
Today there is one shade of grey.
Black; that clings to my back;
An invisible mist of rain
That clings like a shawl
That cannot be shed.
I am enveloped in this shroud of mist,
Over body and head.
Suzanne Munro 24-8-20
Loneliness kills
LONELINESS KILLS.
It creeps and spills
To every corner of life.
It’s sharp like the knife;
It is a dull ache that permeates all
As all forsakes.
Loneliness is made.
Man-made, manufactured
By lives, fractured
By modern society.
Loneliness: a killer we cannot see.
It will never be seen:
For we have to look:
Look for the invisible.
Unless you seek, you will not find.
It takes the blind to lead the blind;
The lonely would find the lonely –
But an impossibility
For the lonely often cannot roam to seek their own.
The lonely stay at home:
For fear, for care;
Because they are sad in mind:
Because they do not know where to seek, to find.
Life is round the corner;
Life is beyond the nearest hill.
Life is beside, beyond, behind, in front;
Always missing the immediacy of the present.
LONELINESS KILLS.
Suzanne Munro 29-8-20
Christian
The blue sky above is the vaulted heights of my cathedral,
The tree branches, fan vaulting of crafted stone;
God’s church, that He built –
Not man-made created out of desire to worship,
Nor to enhance the worship of our own
Feeble minds, dependant on atmospheric aid:
This is the church the Lord hath made
With HIs own fair hand.
I sit upon my pew, a trunk of fallen tree,
God comes, and sits down next to me.
I have a view of exquisitely arranged church flowers:
Who arranged these, this week, and every other, in the early hours? Our Father:
Just as He blesses me with angelic choir and music from the pipes:
And I hear the hymns of joy, joined by the congregation from the branches.
Communion is not taken at set time in bread and wine,
But by communion with God – every time I eat and drink.
There are no words from minister or priest,
Only silence to let my heart be filled by God – silence to receive His peace.
There are no sermons:
Save that of space; for me to wait, to HEAR God’s word: and think
How I best live His word upon life’s street:
It is a church of sky; – nay, a room, in God’s vast house,
Where we simply meet…….
Good Friday 10-4-20