I wish that I could see the dawn
That follows the one of my demise
For I could then tell all of you
If ‘there’ beyond is truth or lies.
And if I did see dawn it’s true
That to a better place we go
But if I don’t see that new dawn
Then I could never let you know.
And so your journey you will make
Some with husband, some with wife
And you will find out for yourself
If there exists that better life.
©Joe Wilson – By dawn’s early light…2015
In pen I plough my lonesome furrow
Synapses alive and the brain set alight
Willing an audience to interpret correctly
‘The meaning’, tis always The Poet’s hard plight.
Often the words that are written on paper
Take on a new life with the nuance of speech
If only the reader could hear it as I do
But then there’d be little left for me to teach.
Oh for a lovely warm Spring morning I say
What is invoked in the spirit that’s you
I hear the converse of snowdrop and crocus
And try then to pass on the messages too.
Some are times when the words just won’t form
I can’t find the flow to fit with my thoughts
Still though the writing finds ways to the paper
Landing as ink in shapes of all sorts.
Thus I continue to put my pen to paper
Scribbling new odes for the reader to see
And all the words that I lay there before you
Are just a reflection of all that is me.
©Joe Wilson – All that is me…2015
Marching forwards in love and in life
As snowdrop and crocus cover Spring earth
Raw though the wind, as Winter still lingers
Chapping the faces exposed to its wrath.
Hope springs eternal as I sit by the hearth
Indoors the warmth of a nice open fire
Nicely chopped logs all stacked by a scuttle
Glorious flames up the chimney rise higher.
Flames soporific and soon I am sleeping
Out like a light from the heat of the fire
Running in dreams and thinking of roses
Wrapped in a beautiful paper display.
All for the lady who loves me forever
Roses the flowers from my heart every day
Dreams full of happy, and our lovely children
Slight sadness now as they make their own way.
It’s many years now and our love we have found
No more needs the blankets we laid on the ground.
Living a life with one who inspires you
Overly blessed like the Spring that now hails
Verdant the grass round the bench in the garden
Each night during Summers we tell lover’s tales.
And as we enter our twilight of living
Not for a second our passion shall wane
Drawn to each other, a one made from twain.
Isn’t it wondrous when love makes hearts bind
Never a doubt in your passion-filled mind.
Letters we’ve written of love for each other
Ink that was written, but not by a sage
Finally we slip into hot-chocolate evenings
Enjoying the warmth as we turn the next page.
©Joe Wilson – Marching forwards in love and in life…2015 (Acrostic)
Heavy the heart
Painful the burden
The messenger’s part
In passing the word on.
Deep are the creases
That now line his brow
The pain never ceases
It’s personal somehow.
His was the book
Which counted the dead
But each killing took
His heart’s peace instead.
They were his men
He loved them like sons
They’ll not sing again
Silenced by guns.
The letters he wrote
To tell of each death
Families he smote
By words of last breath.
The killing decided
There’s no final amount
Messenger lies dead
One more for the count.
©Joe Wilson – The letters…2015
I bet that as a child I climbed up many trees
Sometimes in tears running home with cut knees
I’d have played with Dinky toys and Hornby trains
And jumped into puddles after pouring rains.
I bet that as a youth I was petulant and daft
And sailed down a river on a home-made raft
I’d have ridden on my bike for miles and miles
Watching all the steam trains at railway styles.
And on a rugby pitch I’d have felt right in place
Charging down the wing or lying on my face
To clubs I’d have gone for the rhythm and the blues
We’d dance through the night like we’d nothing to lose.
I bet I met a lady who would love me forever
Who’d nurture our children and make us seem clever
She’d always keep me warm on the coldest nights
And be by my side when I get these frights.
I bet these things I’ve written may have all taken place
But the end-game approaches at an ever-quicker pace
I see it is the sort of life someone like me would need
But the memories have faded like an old dried up seed.
©Joe Wilson – I bet…2015
We thought we were indestructible
That the world was ours to grasp
It was clear it was the old ‘n’ incorrigible
Who’s breath came out in a rasp.
And so we lived our comfortable lives
Thinking mainly of ourselves and our own
Getting the best cars to fit in our drives
Making certain our lawns were all mown.
We only applied for the very top posts
Believing, as we did, we’re the best
Entertaining bosses as such perfect hosts
We really were promotion obsessed.
Then one of you is ill, you’re pulled up dead short
It makes you evaluate your life
You start to resent being one of your sort
The thought cuts your soul like a knife.
As time passes by you realise you do care
At the way of the world and the hurt
The way that the rich have far more than their share
While others look for food in the dirt.
Perhaps though, most of us go through this change
When the blinkers finally fall from the eyes
We recognise that apathy is wrong and so strange
It’s the time we start hearing sufferer’s cries.
Soon your own health gets you into the time-frame
Where your sneezes and wheezes start to count
And you worry that things will never be the same
And are you warm and eating the right amount!
You realise you’re far from indestructible
As your breath come out in a rasp
But for you life is ever so precious
And you’ll hang on with your dying gasp.
©Joe Wilson – We thought we were indestructible…2015
Would you walk with me in bright Spring moonshine
Where we could talk of life and of our love
And stay and watch the skies and stars above
When I would tell of how you are divine
In the skies where love is oft reflected
Amongst the star-crossed lovers all displayed
Thoughts awry at glances that you made
Blessed am I our hearts a so connected.
We’d sit and kiss and talk of heart’s desires
And holding hands we’d make our way to home
As passion fills our souls like oceans foam
With love so great to always quench the fires
To live and love and share my life with you
Was surely what fate wanted me to do.
©Joe Wilson – Walk with me…2015
So take me up my quill of finest swan
To write what matters yet not much less
For thus my thoughts are now shrivelled and gone
Thus left empty-headed I must now confess.
Wouldst that I could perhaps tarry a thought
As headlong it rushes before mine eyes
A serious, nay, even a gentle sort
To halt such a one that my mind defies.
Thence would I rush to parchment brand new
And write with such haste my thought down in inks
Afore it was lost to the sky so blue
Stealing the words of devotion methinks.
For if my quill wouldst move swiftly as thought
Twould tell of the love from thee that is sought.
©joe Wilson – So take me up my quill…2015
A breath is being taken that’s so shallow
No sound the breathing now makes
The fear of death lurking in the shadows
Immerses the souls in fearful quakes.
For the breathing of man is a precious gift
Yet one taken as a right by this sinner
But the spectre in the shadows is yet waiting
As the rasping sound of death grows ever thinner.
A tear now slowly falls from the dying man’s eye
It lands with a mighty clap upon his pillow
For the man is in such pain while he is living
Yet he knows there’s more to come at where he’ll go.
For not a word of simple kindness did he ever utter
A cruelty to fellow-men was all he’d show
And he never gave but a thought to how we got here
But down there, it’s safe to say, he’ll surely know.
©Joe Wilson – His last breath…2015
A man can fancy himself a lover
He can fool himself so well
But without he’s kind and thoughtful too
He’ll remain a man for whom no one fell.
We foolish men with egos writ large
Our pride makes us oft so foolhardy
And in arrogant fashion we think we’re the best
Like a hero carved out by a Thomas Hardy.
And yet when we give all we are to the one
To the one who can bring joyous tears
That person will give all they are in return
O true happiness! You just grow through the years.
Love will make your heart shine bright
It will lift away your fears of lonely
For when you’re with the one you love
It is never a time of being the only…
©Joe Wilson – We foolish men…2015
Jovis on a Journey... 