I came accross these swans after making love in DeBurghs wood. I could feel the magic. I took the photo and wrote the poem. All caputred in an instant. You have to do things as they happen or else, loke a floating cloud the magic is gone forever.
There is a valley down below
where you and I can go
where peace is everywhere
and hope like snowdrops grow there
a place to be
when all around you disagree
a place to sit while
and walk away with a smile.
This beautiful and most colourful finch has a nest at the Knox, beside the Canal. I was struck by his beauty and wrote this poem to celebrate
A blackbird will beat
a crow
If he touches
Their young
I met a man in the abbey graveyard
He brought me over to a place
Where he said women are buried
I told him this is not true
I brought him over to the other corner
And told him this is where the unbaptised
Were buried
I showed him the tiny wall
Between the baptised and the unbaptised
And told him that
That this was to ensure
God would make a mistake
Between the Dammed and the Saved
What do you do
When your future is behind you
Do you sit on the seat
A Victoria bridge
And wonder
what is water
