Gazing

Bilal Saloo

Gazing, into this small window of time,
I see stories unfold on crisp pages,
I see beauty in this window of mine,
Butterflies escaping cocoon cages,
Bright eyed wings uncurl all in a flutter,
on the branch of the tree with the green leaf
Browning, drifting, crinkling, joining clutter.
Dear window, in mind’s eye, such a brief
journey, to glimpse a faraway place
I know not when I shall see once again,
or feel the cold pinch, the hot slither lace
down to the fingers, wrapped around a pen;
In need I am of the window I see,     
That gathers dust and is locked with a key.

M

Alf

The wind whispers the words of ghosts haunting my memory in flashes of sweet, silent clarity,
and I remember.
I remember souls reaching as waves grasping for shore
And I remember joy
I remember hearts yearning as I had never endured before
And I remember love

Continue reading “M”

Fade and Haze

by Mark Griffin

My memories make me me, don’t they?
The stories I tell; the loves I’ve known
and lost. But what if those memories fade and haze.
Where’s me then?

It Isn’t Me – It’s You!

by Jem Tovey

When first we met I was quite young, still in primary school,
I liked to push the boundaries, always first to break the rule.
On my way home with schoolfriends we came across some crates,
Of illicit Bulmer’s cider, so we thought we’d have a taste. Continue reading “It Isn’t Me – It’s You!”

For The Love Of Books

by Jackie Darnbrough

They provide paths

for a hesitant mind ,

to search for answers

when the page is turned Continue reading “For The Love Of Books”

Those Unsung Special Folk

by Mohamed Saloo

T’was the day before New Year
In a magical little town
Where lived a flock of volunteers
Who worked the year all round Continue reading “Those Unsung Special Folk”

The Last Time

by Jane Griffin

There’s a last time…
A last time you see someone;
A last time you smile and they smile back;
A last time you hug; Continue reading “The Last Time”

The Old String Vest

by David Honeybell

I can remember as if it was yesterday,

Gran’dad wearing his old string vest.

It was quite tight across his belly,

but much slacker across his chest. Continue reading “The Old String Vest”