The Offer

If I were to offer you the secret of time

And reveal how its passing could be confined –


Would you accept?


Oh but of course!

Day on day I grapple to capture each breath

That exhales my life and edges me closer to death


What fool would decline

Infinity’s tonic

That abolishes time

And its nagging wife


Who’s a ruthless reminder that it’s all apt to dissolve

Along with dust-gathering moments of stories untold


Eradicate time and regret is gone

So too is the saddle of guilt

That’s laden with mistakes and the promises we break

As all our dreams are destined to wilt


Yes, it’s true that distress ticks with time’s callous clock

But you see, the paradox of it all is this –


That time’s fleeting nature is also the source

Of a bordered life that’s bursting with bliss


Without time, you would not try

To be who you are or to ask yourself why


Why am I here and what is this for?

How can I improve on who I was before?


Who do I love and why do I care

That I’m so overcome with feelings of despair?


At the thought that I’ve not been true

To what it is that I set out to do


In a blaze it will be categorically gone

So honour time obediently

Make it yours with this breath…

For nothing drives us more than immediacy

A Wedding Rhyme

Standing within these garden walls

There’s a distinctly buoyant glow

That emanates from Sars and Tobes

Two of the happiest people I’m privileged to know


Today, like all days, they’re dressed

In matching sunlit smiles

Beaming at the vista ahead

As they skip excitedly down the aisle


Though very alike, each has also composed

A deeply personal tune

One revelling in the other’s sound

As they dance together under the same moon


Sars brings to Tobes’ world a vitality

From which vigour and courage abound

Such that he sprints towards life with a giggle

Whenever his beloved Sars is around


And with Sars, Tobes shares his humanity

Marked by a man who’s boundlessly kind

Which fills Sars’ heart with gratitude

For having snagged such a precious find


Drawing from one other’s wisdom

These are two masterful artists of being

Painting life’s canvas with their vibrant colours

Knowing that what’s simplest is also most freeing


Their shared disposition is so very rare

In that no matter what toils they’ve bled

Each is unyielding in the faith they serve

To never choose fear, but always joy instead


And in this glee together

They have travelled far and near

Cycling the road of adventure

In tandem, towards each new frontier


From speaking Spanish in America’s South

To carving the Canadian peaks

They’ve inhabited India’s chaos

Before unwinding on the beaches of Greece


These the two boldest explorers I’ve met

Can attest to the true meaning of wealth

That comes in the form of lifetime travel

The elixir for their sparkling health


Yet what makes Sars and Tobes special above all

Is the love they so generously share

In abundance they give without question

Showering all their adored with tender care


It so follows that it was surely ordained

By the stars that lit their spirited souls

That these our two most treasured creatures

Would make one another perfectly whole

Goddess of Untruth

She may appear dainty

In her wispy botanic dress

But a day with her you’ll no doubt end

A blubbering sorry mess


She’ll ravage you with her oozy lips

That could lead good men to war

A mirror for those bolshy femmes

Who see only wretched whores


Her words they charm with reason

An alleged pristine truth

Though she’ll talk at you in a manner

That’s both offensive and uncouth


And you’ll listen.

With baited breath you’ll wait

For every word she spits at you

You’ll bundle and inflate


She’ll distract you with her ethos

That was never yours to bear

And fracture every pillar

That you’ve built with ardent care


She’s devilishly resilient

To break her you know you must

Swipe at her Achilles heel

With a single mighty thrust


And then resounding quiet

Cascades into the space

That’s yours to flood with streams

Of gentle loving grace

The Little Prince

Atop the moon and beside the stars

The Little Prince sits perched on his throne

Inspecting the planets as they orbit the sun

Dumfounded at how time has flown


Just one year’s passed since he came to be Prince

Of this tres magnifique cosmos

Yet he crinkles his brow, astonished at how

It is he who is deemed to be boss


“But, Hugo!” The indelible markings of a Prince

Are all those that you do bear

That’s the reason why, you’re the Prince, not I

Said the purple elephant Mayor


“I wonder,” mused Hugo as he twiddled his toes

“Maybe the elephant’s right

Maybe it’s me, who was meant to be

The wee Prince of affection and light”


“Oh but of course, young Prince

Look how you stormed, gallantly into life

In a thunderous bolt, you brought the world to a halt

Instantly banishing all strife


“And I need not tell you the unspoken law

That a Prince must be handsome like none

So to be of dark luscious hair, from here to there

Is not a gift just bestowed on anyone”


“Yes I suppose there’s sense to your words”

Hugo quipped to his elephant friend

“My eyes do after all, melt every soul

With a blue twinkle one can only commend”


Scratching his scone, Hugo then considered

How a Prince must rule with bravado

To be hungry for peace, and fight without cease

For that slice of bread and avocado


A Prince also knows that he doesn’t know

All that is yet to be known

So with a curiosity he grabs, he shakes, twists and jabs

Any item that is yet his to own


“My Prince, you’re a prodigy of this I don’t doubt

Your brilliance echoes the moon’s

Even I, an astute elephant, see you as so eloquent

You realise you’re ‘The’ cognitive tycoon”


“And yet all this aside, my dear confident

What makes you the marvel you are

Is the love that you’ve brought and the heart that you’ve wrought

Such that yours is the shiniest star


“So then I am a Little Prince,” Hugo finally grasped

“Of this brimming expanse that I see

All the dreams and potential, and hope exponential

Are mine to embrace with glee!”

Terminal 1

Wandering feet follow the crowds

Across the tarmac and towards

Terminal 1: purgatory


Neither here nor there

Countless feet shuffle up and back

Along the zombie trails


Is it night or day?

No-one really knows

The humidity suggests it’s day

But the lightless windows say otherwise


It’s hard to tell if they’re coming or going

Arrivals usually escape

As departures return home

To where they’re meant to be


The in-between gate

Is a curious place

It sweats nostalgia

And sells memories in the duty free shop


Exotic bliss and postcard trips go for cheap

It’s the hope of something more

That really stings you at the checkout


Flights are often delayed in Terminal 1

Anxiety then takes off

And time checks in

Knowing of the turbulence ahead


And then you wait

You breath. You blink. You wait

Questions dart across the board

What flight are you on?

Should you board that plane?


Who can know?

And there’s no-one to ask

After all, they’re mostly in-betweeners

And the half-here care little

Of your flight plan


It’s a desolate place, this Terminal 1

White noise muffles conversation

With its satellite chatter


Boarding calls and final calls

No calls directing you to your gate

Urgently hurrying you

So you don’t miss your flight


It’s just you and the zombies in Terminal 1

“Tac” (or “Dad” in Polish)

To be your own master is no modest feat

It’s a custody that the weaker may shun

But Tac being what I call a “do-er”

Rolls his sleeves up and just gets it done


My father is a chap of absolute strength

Though not a friend, adversity is neither his foe

Together they have walked and honestly talked

About the lessons Tac needed to grow


It was a voyage so far that I stumble to fathom

On a ship he sailed to an alien shore

And conquered this isle with a humble smile

Knowing he created a life most could only ask for


But like any triumph, they don’t come cheap

Work and sacrifice must be endured

And so I thank-you Tac, so very very much

For all my opportunities that you have secured


A chief “do-er” in life, Tac is also one

Who never ceases to astound

With his endless pursuits, he tirelessly refutes

To put his adventurous feet on the ground


If he’s not lost in the throws of a book

He’s riding the wave of a symphony’s tide

From his self-education to artful creations

There’s little our Tac hasn’t tried


Let’s see – he rows, he runs, he swims

He writes, he records, he films

Around the world he zaps

Sharing reindeer meat with Laps

It’s a wonder he manages to sleep!


And yet somehow, he still finds the time

To share a vodka and herring with friends

Or to help out Gas, with whatever’s troubling her most

He is a man on whom many depend


In my short(er) life it’s apparent to me

That Tac is no ordinary man

And despite some questionable attire, I do truly aspire

To emulate his attitude of “I can”


To me, Tac above all is a family guy

Who in his wisdom knows it to be

That the most veritable of all his deeds

Is the love he’s amassed from his family

The Hill of Delight

Up the hill I drag my feet

One languid step at a time

Wondering if, per chance I’ll see

My fate etched in the skyline


Darkness above, darkness below

The expanse is vast and bare

Confused, I keep traipsing up that hill

Frightened there’ll be nothing there


And then ahead I suddenly see

What I’d never seen before

Or at least I thought it new to me

But then, how could I be sure?


When I’d lived each day fixed on the ‘nots’

Afraid of what might be

If I opened my eyes, looked to the stars

And proclaimed “All is fine with me!”


So on this day when at last I saw

The world as it had always been

Each crevice and crescent bathed in colour

Alit in a rainbow dream


For it’s a curious thought that we feel compelled

To march gallantly up that hill

When the answers to each and every step

Are found only when we are still


To take that time, oh precious time

And know that the climb just might

Despite the drudgerous hill we walk

Be cause for wondrous delight

Madame “M”

Prey tell, good sir have you ever seen

The illustrious Madame “M”

A noblewoman of such repute

They call her the crème de la femme


Ah yes, your grace I do know this “M”

She bounds from distant shores

I believe her regal blood’s so rich

It illuminates her pours


Indeed, she’s a beauty – make no mistake

This “M” is a sight to behold

A luminescent coup de tat

God marvelled at his work I am told


My lord, in his praise God is not alone

Many revere our “M” from below

Her warmth of heart and soulful touch

Are so treasured by all those who know


That our “M” is a sloppy jo’d angel

Who loves like none other I’ve seen

And to be hugged by her is a blessing

Of the most notable esteem


If you’ll allow me sir, I’d also add

That “M” has the brains to boot

She’s gutsy and impeccably sharp

Not to mention, she’s a raging hoot


Then we agree as two men of considerable stature

That “M” boasts a je ne sais quoi

And is adored by her doting girls (plus H)

For who couldn’t love the magnanimous “M” for Monika

It’s You, It’s Me

Scattered words

Aligned with none

Take refuge in the scorching sun

A question here, an answer there

Trifle matters demanding too much care

For it’s not the shape, nor form, nor lyric

Nor the cry, nor the sigh, nor the need to ask “Why?”

It’s just you and me

And the will to be

The Darling Buds of May

Our fair maidens met some eons ago

In a marvellously mythical land

Where philosopher queens reign supreme

And all hail the writer’s hand


In their world, the moon holds wisdoms

That the stars doth tussle to know

But his Moonship reserves for our princesses

The keys to his luminous glow


And with this gift our ladies wave

The tips of their glittery wands

Frolicking about without any doubt

That theirs is a sacred bond


In their kingdom they oft dance til sunrise

Sharing a world of boundless glee

Where noblewomen twirl in gowns of lace

That smell like potpourri


Chatter doth flood the sandy shores

Of their creatively cultivated soils

Our girls are seldom bereft of a topic

In which they’re not utterly embroiled


Wealth is of idle concern to our maidens

Uggh! Such puffery bores them stiff

They’d far prefer to spend their dimes

Tapping about to a jolly good riff


These two, our bosom buddies

Will forever each other adore

And on any given day, they will always say

One gives the other wings to sore