
Steps to the deep


Take it to the grave
Reasons for leaving
Staying and believing
Committing thine self
To fate or worse
Make treacherous path
Smoother for dealing
Trading and receiving
All I could ask for
More or less
Ticket of freedom
Handed no pleading
Wishing upon leaving
For a hand to grasp
Now and then
Gravity of relieving
Tales of far and wide
Filtered for pleasing
Open heart and mind
When and wherever
Where is she leading?



Horizons open out behind and before my eyes
Where once closed lids were anointed by the sky
A feast of coloured feathered wings adorn the quiet street
Where once a common sparrow was admired
Sprigs of white blossoms litter the greenway edges
Where once the swarm of pests had devoured
A window bush explodes in yellow flowers and vivid green
Where once the worm had eaten all bud and leaf
The Springing Sun adorns my bedroom mirror and wall
Where once the light was blinding and the shades my coverall
Pale green new leaves float dreamily on the warm soft breeze
Where once apologies for the diseased tree next door
A drone of bees parade along the front blooming tower
Where once a drone of ghostly voices furled my brow
Little boy lambs bleat delight in hands and friends
Where once they fended alone as eagle descends
The tower clock is bypassed for the bustling doctor’s street
Where once the sanctity of pillowed pews was sweet
Hopeful conversations in the sun and houses meet
Where once mere imaginings of popular masses to greet
How ready as we’d ever been to step into Unknown
Where once control had reigned and error was shown
Faces, I daily pray and long to see an Image old
Where once their living wisdom was untold

Street Art, Konstance, Germany. By ‘Nilko and Rusl’
“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”
― Beryl Markham, West with the Night
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“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
― Kahlil Gibran
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“We’re going all the way ’til the wheels fall off and burn.”
― Bob Dylan
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“You made me happy and you made me laugh, and if I could do it all over again, I would not hesitate. Look at our life, at the trips we took, the adventures we had. As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you.”
― Nicholas Sparks, The Longest Ride
The lights confuse us in the night
Tracking right to left and left to right
Steady beacon constant on the bow
Torch flashing sail; waves on metal plough
All eyes front, gazing at the steady stream
Of fishermen, leisure yachts passing near abeam
Pitch black warrior of steel, cruising twenty knots
Through a minefield of coral reef and sandy spots
In the dead of night watch, that steady light ahead
Lost our nerve, our confidence, woke captain from his bed
Stop all engines, reassess, ignore the fuming Nav
No saving face, or gold of rank, sleeping sailors we have
Keep them safe, secure in racks dreaming of their home
On the bridge the young watchkeeper has eyes like radar dome
It was the year I did execute the perfect come ’round
Aft of the Nottingham, the day before it ran aground