Fate is in our own hands…

In that moment, just before…
I wonder what you were thinking
Did you believe that you’d be brave enough
Or were your spirits already shrinking
And during that time when you etched out your future
Were your tear-filled eyes even then blinking.

And to which vital moment might I now refer
The job interview maybe, that you really feared
Or was it that long-ago speeding offence
That you always wished had just disappeared.
Or was it the time when you fell in love
And got tongue-tied when wanting a date
The way that you never knew whether to kiss
On that first goodnight at her garden gate.
Whichever it was, was a long time ago
Yet you wonder now as you recall
Perhaps if you’d acted in different ways
But you played straight and let the die fall.

Who knows – we just do the best that we can
And hope that life treats us quite well
We sympathise with those who get kicked in the teeth
Feeling lucky we don’t share their hell!!

©Joe Wilson – Fate is in our own hands…2015

Laughter lines…

I can trace the little laughter lines
That have formed around her eyes
I remember when they first showed signs
And I loved them so, to my surprise.
We’ve laughed together over many years
And we’ve cried together too
She always drives away my fears
For her that’s what I do.

Over time some pain assumed
Some scars upon our lives
Frantic waits in quiet rooms
Prayers for skills from surgeon’s knives.
Through this I’ve loved and in return
Been loved far more than I could earn.

©Joe Wilson – Laughter lines…2015

We fall despite ourselves…

He never knew he’d fallen in love
Love was always for others he thought
Thought he liked a very nice girl once
Once even asking her out sometime
Sometime sadly, it never came.

Came the realisation crashing in on him
Him feeling a fool for showing he cared
Cared enough he realised one time
Time that was precious and slipping away
Away from him daily as lonely he stayed.

Stayed on that shelf that singles inhabit
Inhabit the space where lonely sets in
In to his soul and all through his actions
Actions that he always had in control
Control his watchword but for one time…then.

Then something happened that changed him forever
Forever, for he met the one in his dreams
Dreams you can never believe in the real world
World is a place though where strange things are true
True they became…when I met with you.

©Joe Wilson – We fall despite ourselves…2015

Yet another old memory…

Her perfume lingered in my nostrils
It reminded me of days long since gone
Of Mother making us treacle tart
And the way the sun always shone.

It didn’t of course, it was just childhood
And we like to think back to the good
Things like the sun always shining
And Mother’s delicious pud.

People then, had no central heating
In winter with fires, the house was cold still
And the water we took up to bed would freeze
Through the night on the windowsill.

Mother’s love was of course, unconditional
As was Dad’s till the day he died
And Mum dabbed on ‘Lily of the Valley’
As she stood by his coffin and cried.

So now, when a lady walks past me
Who is wearing that scent from those years
She’ll probably be a lady of advancing age
Who’s experienced those times and some tears.

And I will drift back to my childhood
But I’ll push out the parts that are bad
As I think of the fun and the love that I felt
I’ve no desire to look back and be sad.

©Joe Wilson – Yet another old memory…2015

In passion…

Undressed, she hooked him, a feast for his eyes
Wearing only deceit like a shawl
But still he found himself trapped by her lies
As he waited for night when she demanded his all.

Hard in desire, yet still deeper in contempt
In passion she drives him to pain
And dark of the eye and with wild hair unkempt
She demands him again and again.

And so again in deep embrace
In thrusting joy and symmetry
They slow right down, it’s not a race
Moving to heaven with intensity.

He of course, just kids himself
They’re lovers, there’s no deceit
The thoughts he has in passion’s stealth
Help make the act complete.

Many times he’s lain in this nest
He wants for nothing here
And as he sleeps in grateful rest
From his eye seeps a satisfied tear.

©Joe Wilson – In passion…2015

ecce quomodo moritur justus…

Naked, he now stands before his maker
There’s no more pretence, no more lies
He carries no longer, his banal repartee
He waits, supplicant to hard probing eyes.

As a young man his heart had been so dark
He’d cursed and fought in the streets
And any young lady who’d caught his eye
He’d seduced her between the sheets.
Could he have lived a far better life
Surely, in decency everyone would
Now he never passed by on the other side
Doing the very best that he could.

And with age grew the man who now stands here
He hopes he’s made up for those days
A lifetime since then helping others
Might make up for his earlier ways.

Still the eyes probed him ever so deeply
Though the result we shall never know
Till the day that we have to stand there
When at last, it’s our time to go.

©Joe Wilson – ecce quomodo moritur justus…2015
‘Behold how the just man dies…’


He looked in the mirror at the map of his life
Covered in scars from the surgeons’ knife
A line down the centre from a life-time ago
Faded, but hideous, from a time of his woe.
The scar on his leg was from ankle to knee
Not something he’d ever expected to see
There’s cuts on his wrists and backs of his hands
Where the cannulae went in attached to drip stands
But all that remains are the bits of scar tissue
Nothing at all, not really an issue.

We all have these scars, they mark who we are
Some can’t be seen, there’s more hidden by far
But they serve to remind us that we aren’t alone
We all need help sometimes, we’re not on our own.

There’s another impressive scar on his head
But if it wasn’t there, he’d surely be dead
The same with the others, they’re ugly old things
But they mark off the years, in the way of tree rings.

©Joe Wilson – Scars…2015