Heartbeat

Heartbeat

Each beat, each marking of a pulse,
could be the last. Yet together repulse
This thought, for it is hope, not chance,
That reveals the richness of life's dance.
A mystery, that every day could be an end,
But is not. Another chance is given to mend
The broken springs of time, to rise anew
And greet afresh the morning's dew.
Let love cast out one part of fear,
Because love endures, and I am here.
 
19/06/1998
 
Comment:

Reflecting on my wife (now ex-wife) suffering from Wolf-Parkinson White Syndrome, which gives bouts of extreme tachycardiac activity (230 beats per minute when still). Luckily she had a treatment called RF abalation, which burnt out the extra cells in the heart causing the malfunction.

 

Corbiere at Dawn

Corbiere at Dawn

The mellow early morning sun
And birdsong heralds day begun,
Yet over cliffs, the gull's stark cry
Greets the mist enshrouded sky,
As waves awake in sudden anger,
As if in fitful start from languor.
The sea is breaking on the rocks,
In sequence of spray sundered shocks,
And blue, grey, pink become as one
And yet the ocean has not won,
For firm above, a tower stands,
Unmoved amidst the shifting sands,
Unbowed by raging tidal eddy,
But brightly shining, always ready
To warn of hidden danger in the deeps,
The lighthouse always wakes, and never sleeps

Notes:

From 16/06/92, a poem to try to capture the movement of sea about the lighthouse. One of my favourite places in Jersey, and it reminds me of other lighthouses, such as the one which is the sanctuary in Marianne Dreams. A clip of Corbiere, lasting about 1 minute, featured in the 1960s TV series "The Champions", where it was supposedly set off the coast of Scotland! The Champions - about three secret agents with special powers, was an entertaining piece of hokum, but on a low budget, which meant that all the exotic locations were made from a combination of close-cut studio work, and bought in film clips. I'd love to know which film Corbiere came from - perhaps an early Jersey Tourist film?

 

Bless This House

Bless This House

 

Nappies and wails and cries,

Contented gurgles, troubled sighs,

As we partake of infant life,

With sometimes peace, and sometimes strife,

A silent night, and come the dawn,

Crying begins and makes us worn.

Yet all told, not all is bad,

And despite the times that make us sad,

There is still plenty of love and joy

A happy smile from every boy

That makes us feel glad, and warms the heart:

With every part, a counterpart,

And so we pray: God bless this house

And calm each troubled, squeaky mouse!

 

Notes

My second son was born in April 1991, and so by 07/10/1991, I was thinking about putting something of the trials and tribulations of having a child - the sleepless nights, the crying, but the happiness as well.

 

 

Midnight Folk

Midnight Folk

 

Outside, the rain is softly falling down

Cobwebs glitter, a fine spun gown

With pearly drops. The harvest moon

Comes out but briefly, the clouds will soon

Roll back across the darkening sky

And batwings flap as fast they fly

To catch their prey - a tiny vole

A-scurrying swiftly down its hole.

And softly tread the woodland folk,

Creep out beneath the ancient oak,

Unseen, to work away the night,

Always there, but out of sight

They rustle fallen leaves in play,

As if the wind had come to stay

Only to dawn; for at first light,

They go, these little folk of night

And when the cock begins to crow,

They are asleep, so deep below.

 

Notes:

 

My follow-up to Winter Folk., written 08/10/1991. I love the idea which one finds in folklore of Kerions, Leprechauns, fey-folk, and strange little folk that might live in the ground, unseen, only coming through in legends that imperfectly glimpse what they might be like.

 

 

Winter Folk

Winter Folk

 

Dawn breaks, and with it comes unusual light

As snow lies heavy, yet soft and white

Across the fields, and each hedgerow

A gloaming wall now. In the meadow,

Grass and earth lie buried, deep

Beneath this blanket of winter sleep

And now the sun breaks through the cloud,

To show the land in icebound shroud

And as the snow is washed by sleet

It melts, hiding signs of tiny feet.

They walked this way, some time last night,

Perhaps a cat, now out of sight,

Or midnight folk, come out this way,

To frolic in the snow and play,

And then return, beneath the oak,

Before the pale sun awoke.

 

 

Notes:

 

1991, and some signs of snow in Jersey!  I reused this in my "Jersey Wonders" book.

 

You and I

You and I

 

Snow crested waves break over

sand,

As you and I walk, hand in

hand;

A warmth of touch against the

cold;

A bitter wind that makes us

bold,

And watch the setting sun this

day,

With shadows growing dark and

grey.

Night comes, but in our hearts is

light;

A flame so pure and warm and

bright.

 

Notes:

21.12.84 - walks with Liz on St Brelade's beach, St Brelade's Bay.

 

 

Secrets.

Secrets.

 

Joy, sadness, grief and

fear:

So much is held in but one

tear.

It trickles down, it does not

tell

Of joy in heaven, or fear of

hell;

A word untold that all can

see;

Still a secret from you to

me.

 

Notes:

21.12.84: Another poem about love, and Liz.