Winter, North Vietnam

Grey bullocks plough the green fields brown;
a paddled tractor muddles by;
flat water squares awaiting rice
are grey fields mirroring grey sky.

Whole schools of children cycle past
misted banana trees and palms;
grey tarmac roads span splashy pools
where floats of tame ducks quell their qualms.

Grey walls of buildings front more fields
whose matt green spatters topee'd heads,
a real-life water colour scene
where sunless drizzle dourly spreads.


But coned bent backs plant change to come;
the new-shoot green shines winter's cure;
the wading cold promises sun
with message clear - only endure.

Jesus was crazy, Muhammad a fraud
and Buddha way too pessimistic;
the Hindus are children with novel for Book
and Jews are just so narcissistic.

Shinto and Taoism never left home;
Confucius made life bureaucratic;
the native Americans lacked holy tome
but still made their worship ecstatic.

So why do we now still believe in these creeds
when science explains nature's working ?
Religion may ease our emotional needs
but only with dangers left lurking.

As kids we believe just whatever we're told
(Loyola grasped indoctrination);
if adults don't question beliefs that they hold,
self-righteousness brings confrontation.

When Catholic, Protestant, Sunni and Shia
dispute the beliefs of their founders,
their doctrines to laymen are ever less clear
and sensible confidence flounders.

New prophets appear and new sects multiply
like Methodists, Sufis and Sikhs,
plus Baptists and Jains, Adventists, Bahai . . .
some folk like belonging to cliques !

If finding companions and comfort in cults
from Moonies to Salvation Army
means losing your logic, it only results
in tenets increasingly barmy.

When cranks like John Smith can invent a new creed,
religion is surely illusion.
Just how many versions of Truth do you need
before you know it's all delusion.

Texting

'Are you asking me out?' she replied at last.
Well, what else would 'Dinner sometime?' mean?
'I'm not sure I'm ready for this.'  Too fast?
It's all ad lib. I've got no scheme.
There's really no need to be so aghast.
It's only a meal, not a marriage proposal.

But I should have made clear I'll pay the bill
with absolutely no expectation
of anything back except my fill
of hopefully interesting conversation
and a pleasant view across the table.
It's only a meal, not a marriage proposal.

PNG

After two weeks together all the time
(except in bed !) with birds of paradise
the quarry, sharing meals and crosswords,
shopping together at the supermarket
(like old times for me) I commented
it seemed like being married. Much too far
too fast. You bridled at the word.

So now I try to put my thoughts to rhyme,
expecting all the time to pay the price
for too much haste, though very few cross words
were said. I didn't even remark 'it
seems so right' just in case you resented
my presumption. Now I'm trying to bar
a 'Dear John' e-mail from my favourite bird.

Oh, I'm so sorry !

We think we sympathise with others in their grief
and illness, worry and despair,
but all we really do is pose upon a bridge
above a mile deep gorge and stare
at mannikins trapped in the depth below and wave
to let them know we know they're there !

 We stand in sunshine and enjoy the sweeping views
forward and back quite unaware
how dark and dangerous the canyon cliffs appear
from the valley floor. How do they dare
attempt the climb from mental mire toward that streak
of liquid sky and laughing air ?


Unless we stumble into misery ourselves
there is no way that we can share
the outlook of those folks we'd like to help. Perhaps
it's best because we could not bear
a fraction of the suffering all around beside
the pain of those for whom we care.

What's the use of sending e-mails
when there's no hope of reply,
of getting no acknowledgement
and never knowing why,
unable to unlock your silence
any way I try.

I thought our personalities chimed
although the different ways we fly
might just reflect our differing incomes.
What does that imply?
Perhaps you're richer than I thought
but I don't want to pry.

I still don't know why you are single;
you could have your choice of guy.
You obviously don't fancy me -
too old of course. Or did you lie
re-lesbianism? I don't mind.
Perhaps you were too shy.

I wanted to continue contact,
know you better by and by.
I bitterly regret your loss
but I won't die or even cry
though if you never change your mind,
I guess this is goodbye.

Grandchild

A baby's daze of days begins to clear
when shapes resolve to objects, sounds to sense
and senses all combine to make appear
the real world - still unreal in consequence

of innocent ignorance of unseen cause.
Then days become a riot of strange delight -
kaleidoscopic faces, mimed applause,
a chaos of novelties that soon incite

rapt exploration, first by touch, then taste,
entrancing all the hours of day till night
restrains the embattled brain from too much haste.
The oddysey resumes at each first light

when sleepy crew wakes up to captain's call
and port routine re-victuals for the race
ahead; new voyages of discovery trawl
the ocean of experience in space.

Discovering legs that scissor to a crawl
expands the universe, opening new doors
to galaxies of rooms whose alien sprawl
needs concentrated study of its laws.

Black holes of cupboards understairs support
daring ascents which step by step increase
exhiliration; doubt though can abort
the missions with the subsequent release

of energy for use in other ways:
for, realising legs can take the weight
and feet plus ankles balance, the odd graze
will not deter this now child standing straight.

To stand upright, albeit clinging on
to legs of people, furniture or dogs,
heightens awareness that more can be done
and from a new perspective catalogues

additions to the world's variety.
If standing tall expands horizons, then
they can be gained once the complexity
of falling forward on one's feet like men

do can be mastered. First though imitate
the action of the crab - sideways along
the shelving sofa ledge, then circulate
the rocky coffee table to the throng

of kitchen unit cliffs whose towering height
freezes the fearful grip; eventually
stiffen the knees and from that stranded plight
accept the helping hand to totter free.

Just one small step for man on earth - to walk !
The giant leap is to the spoken word
and when this infant once begins to talk,
every man's epic journey will be heard.