If he should die his grief Would surely then be gone: This heaviness of grief, And thus of Being, Is grief for the many

There’s a gentle lapping on the sh… A sunny day, we hope for more. The sea is saying come on in, Yet much too cold to take a swim. Sailing boats are out in force

Oh, that I should reach Such depths in words as Pablo Cas… In the musical notes of Bach’s ce… Digging up human emotions, Layer after layer,

When he saw you You reminded him of his mother, Not that you look like her You don’t, But because he’s your brother

At certain times My standing stone will pierce The darkness of your passage, Into your tomb-like womb, Illuminated into life,

The bookmark is a traveller That goes from book to book, And I’m the great unraveller Attempting to unhook The mysteries of the ages

Years later he played a game with… A subtle, deadly game of revenge. But either way, I was not to blam… For what happened to his 'Angel’, His beautiful long-haired daughter…

The goose, head held high, squawki… Chased the peacock across the lane In front of our car. We stopped… The peacock with long tail feather… To the top of an old stone farm wa…

The sound of the sea As it races in Is a mighty din Voiced by the god of the ocean as… From the ravenous swell flooding i…

Late stars, in dark blue, Not unlike the dew, In constellations, In such show, Place me in England:

There is a song I long to sing Hidden within me An emerging spring A song of love

'The clocks might stop For you and me, Time is of the essence, Can’t you see?' 'What’s the hurry,

When you get to grips With brick or stone, with tools, Drilling holes, or re-shaping thin… To fix a light outside, perhaps, Or laying paving slabs