Fool’s Ghazal


Ascents most extreme scaled only by fools
he returns; he returns not; O the fools

The finest, most elevated branches!
There perch incessant songsters! And the fools

In this limited form they face the void
their eyes closed the better to see, the fools

Prepared to take flight? Then loosen your grip
encircle the rock with this flock of fools

The saints, who fly, and the sinners, who fall
unmasked yet undecided who the fools


The Greatest

The greatest tributes are flowing.
This colossus we knew.
Long the bell tolls -boundless the ring-
for love as love is due.
Our giant became larger than life
so big-hearted we knew.
Our confined dreams call the midwife,
a champion will do.
Outrageous, yes! But never foul.
High on the higher view.
Courageous words may be knocked down,
the greatest remain true.

Ground Nesting


When all the animals that could leapt up
to play our icons of virtue,
and all the animals that could dived low
that each might rise again at will,
the lapwing turned to grass and her eggs stone.
Through her field we stroll unaware.

Like thunder enraged beasts colour the air:
all-round heroes of Aesop.
I am the invisible one, my call
a ricochet of the north wind.
I am grass; my eggs, stone. As seasons fade
my projects come to fruition.

We can admit we have walked a circle
with no idea of its centre.
We are not enraged beasts famed for hunting
nor hold we bright wisdom aloft.
While truth remains vital we can admit
we have found only grass and stones.

Like a whisper perhaps to soft to mind
let all hear a voice ring nearby.
I am the invisible one indeed
let a full moon light on my nest.
I am grass; my eggs, stone. As seasons fade
my projects come to fruition.

The Leap


How the porpoise was drawn into the seas
holding a pace seeming stationary
and, bagged on a shelf in a store of years,
who would believe: love is perfected yet.

Moon-proud a sillhouette over our seas-
a second sight at the antipodes-
curving like the rainbow before she fades
just as never was: love is perfected yet.


haiku collection #2
lace-work leaves, or moons;
ropes and anchors hold them all
and never complain

over dark landscapes
countless stars have assembled:
a sleeper may wake

the rolling moon’s sigh-
“your fields my shimmering sea,
could I choose to stay”

novel constellations;
bluebells intent on being
closer than you know

branches large and small-
cut up the blazing heavens,
lay the blossoms down

haiku collection #3

spat out by the sea
I too embrace the least wave
risen from the depths

what has happened here?
all around devestation,
I start by blinking

universal eye,
the river sought deeper shade-
my heart is unsoiled

pleading ignorance,
my bridge that one day will fall
invites you over

these faded portraits
climbing stone steps worn with time
frozen light and shade
haiku Collection #4
willows hanging lower
and lower over the path,
even dogs must bow
willow as witness
two broken fishing vessels
cast but one shadow
willow reflections
suffer the grey leaf adrift
and the tailing carp
the clearest of streams
cloistered with reed and willow
bright kingfisher eyes
where has my love gone?
there where the willow grows
there leaden sorrows flow
the willow rustles:
a pilgrim growing his beard
lingers at the stream.

Haiku Collection #5

I maintain
an invented world:
nymph and sage
cavort there
A rift in the earth
where pioneers from both sides
know no different
rambling rose in bloom
perfuming each stepping stone…
opening the gate
an ocean by ear:
high excitement where the leaves
overlook the lanes
beetle in the water,
this reed to save your soul-
withered and broken
haiku Collection #6
farewell my old skin
tattooed to amuse myself
words no longer true
this joy so fragile
my moon so white and slender
a breeze could take it
you sense the old man
with one more sad tale to tell
let star-gazing win
what of the coconut-
atom wrestles ocean
for the fabled shore
the man in the moon
disregarding all evil
takes a giant leap
haiku collection #7
to my amazement
a stone hung in the sky –
who could help but weep?
responding with smiles-
the voyaging moon becalmed
in this child’s spy-glass
grace in high relief,
partial sunlight realised:
this phase speaks to me
grown old and faded,
children’s drawings under dust-
the moon has a face.
swift through the branches,
slow across the milky way,
faithfully, the moon.



at sunrise practise

within the grey area

leaves perfect their green


just for a moment-

mooring post; cormorant; moon;

river’s totem pole.


deeper the shadow

than thoughtless sunlight may spill

palls the old divan


I would say so much

but skies are blue so little,

I must let them speak


the city shrinks

from the meadow

as a wasp disappears




They barely seem to move at all
the stars who are so shy
while you lie down to rest your head
they glide across the sky
to say I Love You
Good seas but for a cruel moon
would lie down and find peace
by a land they all must cleave to
kiss soft and never cease
to say I love You
Of our timeless eternity
sublime how songbirds sing
to offer all my hours of love
my heart is on the wing
to say I Love You