The Beautiful Game   ( i )

It's rained solid now
for two whole days
not quite like camping,
in this trench bound malaise
it's hovering around freezing
and there's nowhere to go
today's the 25th
and the rain is turning to snow

an unforeseen truce
brought Harry out his hole
for a game of Footy
with his pal Hans in goal
Harry looked serene
as he dribbled through his enemies
it was a draw in the end
but the Germans won on penalties

Harry never could understand
why the Germans hate us
that was before the Somme
had iconic status
Hans was his friend
when they lived in the smoke
they would often have a coffee
and a fag and a joke 

Harry was told he was only
going to 'clear the air'
a baby daughter at home
he wants to be there
Harry would have a jar
with Hans when they got back
but then his Generals said . . .  ATTACK!!!

Harry stood there mesmerised
in the pouring rain
what we now know as shell shock
back then didn't obtain
executed for cowardice
and branded a Traitor,
never mind he got a pardon
some ninety years later...
it was a Beautiful Game.

Private Harry Farr was executed for cowardice at the Somme after a twenty minute trial. Pleas for shell shock were ignored. In 2006 he was granted a posthumous pardon by the Ministry of defence, in the presence of his Ninety Three year old daughter, Gertrude.


The Beautiful Game  (ii)

What does it matter
if they win or if they lose
match fees keep rising,
kids still got holes in their shoes
so long as we're in Europe
that's really what matters
I'm not concerned if my life
and family's in tatters

down on the pitch
some tempers get hot
the Target Man has just realised
he can't afford a new yacht
in the boardroom, stern faces
and the tension's the same
but let's keep it in perspective,
it's a beautiful game.


The Beautiful Game  (iii)

They played Football there
it wasn't a serious game
they used jumpers for goal posts
there was no need for fame

they ranged from twelve to fifty eight
no multi-million pound signings to anticipate
no grudges or over inflated ego's either
we were on holiday there
I'd just come in for a breather

I watched them from my bedroom window
it was over at tea time, I couldn't see a  hero
maybe that Game disappeared from their memory
but it wont from mine, it was kind of testamentary
It was a Beautiful Game.

Afterwards ( The Bird Has Flown )

How you stand aloof, so proud and stately
quietness and silence embalm your rooms
You haven't seen many people lately
inert darkness continually looms
how you stand alone so proud and regal
yet the atmosphere is sterile within
your integrity is extralegal
because you stand alone and have no sin
philanthropy landed like an Eagle
one fine Saturday April afternoon
I paint joy and fun now on my easel
in all of your rooms children's toys are strewn
then the Eagle flew where the rose is sewn
so stately, so regal, the Bird Has Flown.

Eilean Donan

Five Sisters and Three Brothers in perfect harmony
The Saddle and Loch Duich for perfect company
an Oyster Catcher scans the loch
devoid of any hassle
as the sun streams down so radiantly
on Eilean Donan castle

Otters frolic in the bay tho we can never see them
elusive as an Archer's bow, beyond the east of Eden
a Porpoise fin, a cackle of Geese
we are nature's willing vassal
as the sun casts down it's evening cloak
on Eilean Donan castle

* * * * * *

when the sun slips out of sight
on a tranquil April night
and the moon hangs like a tassel
the lights emblaze the awesome sight
of Eilean Donan castle.

Martin's Otter

I'm sure I saw an Otter! Quick just stop the car
it's head ducked down beneath the blue
I know it can't be far
we scampered down the road so quick
as fast as any arrow
to spy our shy elusive friend
or was it just a Sparrow?

we disembarked upon the bank
our feet began to totter
as we scanned the water fervently
in search of Martin's Otter

then something unexpected happened
I couldn't believe my eyes
a Mallard cranked it's wings so bright
and headed for the skies

fooled again, we all concurred
by an opportunist spotter
but was it really a Mallard Duck
or Martins flying Otter!

Innocence

I knew a Girl once
I was only a child
She was a great friend
We got on so well
We sought each other out in the playground
We played all sorts of children's games
I invited her to my party
I assumed she would come
I don't know why She didn't show
Or why it seemed to cause such a stir amongst grown ups
She moved soon after
I never saw her again
I was very sad
I often wondered why she never came
I still remember taking the invitation to her house
I went with my Mum
Her Father answered the door
A very big friendly man
With a great big Jamaican smile!

Childhood's End

we were immortal as children but not for very long
we were dimly aware that people did die
adventure and fun were the main things in life
pushing the boundaries in our own Goldfish bowls
mischief and laughter placated French lessons and spelling tests
our path chartered for us yet we had made no choice
we rebelled within the parameters of quaint juvenility
did bad things that only constituted bad in our time
endless summer holidays, it never seemed to rain
even learning could be fun in the Philatelic domain

then one day it changed
so suddenly so
senior school, a new gene pool
I had to let go

the finishing line was visible
it had to be reconciled
time to stand up and face it

I was no longer a child.

Letting Go

release. . . release
salmon pink sunset with hints of rose petals
beautiful violence of orange and violet
pleated loch shielded by mauve
letting go all of your worries
to a grander perspective


SOON


behold the hush of nature
frosty stars and outlines of indigo
tangible peace transcends stark reality


SOON

the morning might hold the world more gently
clouds may tear off the craggy ramparts
the breeze may chase off persistent hill fog
to reveal velvet slopes as green as tunics


SOON


another page of life unfurled
it's still a beautiful world.

Endless Road

This road goes on forever
where could it possibly end?
Over the horizon, round the next bend
this road goes on forever

this is an endless  road
constant escarpment, towering clouds
lowering sun, coloured life enshrouds
this is an endless road

the river curved and flowed
as it followed the road
with me and infinity
to distant eternity
this is an endless road.

Yesterday and Tomorrow

can you remember
when you laughed as a child
when you rolled in the grass
no cares for tomorrow
only for today

you hoped tomorrow
would never become today
but sadly it did
can you remember yesterday?

I sincerely hope you can
because yesterday
may sculpt your dreams
better than today ever will

in a world where mice and men
have been superseded
by a distant promise
manifested by a hope
that will never fade away
like yesterday.

Bob

Bob has long gone
but his plates still live on
I can still see him there,
ensconced in his chair
his books were his friends,
in piles everywhere
Bob has long gone
but his house is still there

I inherited his records
and later his C.D's
He hadn't even died
when he gave me all these
you see Bob had a problem,
in fact he had many
but it was Osteo Arthritis
that brought him down to his knees

He travelled the world
ensconced in his chair
thanks to piles of books
he'd been everywhere
He'd listen to cricket,
never bothered with telly
and recount every detail
as if he'd been there

The Bin Man. the Intellect,
the proud Politician
a Miser by choice
was his own frank admission
you see Bob was so stubborn
and entrenched in his views
a meat and two veg man
no sign of malnutrition

He became a good friend of mine
just after he retired
not surprisingly a young wife
he never acquired
He would always wear a jumper
beneath his suit jacket
yet in the heat of  hot summer
he never perspired

He asked me to give his funeral talk
but forbade me to cry
tho I thought I really knew Him
I never really knew why
John Robert Appleton
was seventy seven years old
sorry Bob in this last matter
I didn't do as I was told.

Inverbroom

wide, flat and green
so serene
in the foreground lies a stream
with artistic persuasions

cliffs of trees
stoical sheep
Inverbroom and
Coighach's peak
with striations

Gruinard beach
just out of reach
receding tide
reveals a newborn beach
of creation's

where else do you know
where crowds  just don't go
a singular beauty
with little or no imitations.

Highland Lochan

mirror lochan, azure sky
vellum of the distant tweed of the hills
punctuated by scattered crofts
stroking the vellum
stroking the cat of wild isolation
the thrill of distant peace

coquettish waves lap realities shore
yet deep within the mirror lochan
a cuticle of sun
plays on my waking thoughts
stravaiging along the cortex of an endless day

the undulating waves
make a carpet for my feet
as they tease the mountains in the mirror.

Music of the Mountains

A knotty ridge and a curtain of mist
it angled up from behind the Cluanie
Shostakovian with a hint of Lizst
long curving streams and Schubert sing to me
an elongated loch, frost hugs the glen
a bothy fire and a dram warms the heart
'Rach 2' and 'Manfred' come back to me then
bellyfolds of glens does Mozart impart
vistas superb in Wagnerian sweep
every season has it's Vivaldi
Valkyrian frieze an eagle could weep
Brahms by day, night full of Ligeti
In the Inn they would warm and laugh and talk
that hill still reminds me of Jack's Beanstalk!

The Applecross Glow

How I longed for the Applecross Glow
smooth heather dumplings plastered in snow
Bealach na Ba was top of the list
but whenever I got there
it was languishing in mist

I know I was there a long time ago
on those sweet heather dumplings covered in snow

I was compelled to return there a short while ago
on those bulky heather dumplings void of snow
iridescent lantern shone through the cloud
illuminating bays with luster endowed

there was an Inn I recall, I remember it well
for snow on the mountains rang the death knell
cottages shone in spring's undertow
hopelessly smitten by the Applecross glow

the sun's coppery light on a vast tract of sand
it's a place where nature still has the upper hand
people stood around chatting didn't want to go
hopelessly smitten by the Applecross glow

I know I was there a long time ago
on those sweet heather dumplings covered in snow.

Ripples on the water

see the ripples float across the water
paradise is further down by the shore
you know you were here some years before

Harris tweed was the cloth she wore
raiment fine for a lady who cares
from Vatersay to Lewis
who could have wished for more

you carried Islands in the back of your car
see the ripples float across the water
beautiful days in the mural of your journey
paradise was further down by the shore.

Should a poem rhyme?

well I would say it was up to the poet
but to be honest he may not ... realise
perchance we acknowledge it was his voice
so let's face it he should have the... option

Tennyson's poems rhymed
and some of them didn't
but that shouldn't perturb us
because he came from Lincolnshire

but forsooth so do I
Yellowbelly till the day I ... expire
I nearly said die
twas a good job I didn't
because I couldn't find a word
that rhymed with didn't

but back to the question
tis true many don't know it
but as I've already said
it's up to the... well up to you really.

The Speck

a speck against a sea of green
the speck is unable to enlarge
but the grand loch
exceeds in magnanimity
elongating in composed elegance

the sea of green flexes it's muscles
standing proud against the submarine blue
ripples of sapphire diffuse a brushmark of cloud
thwarted by a sentinel of green pines

I could stay in the hut
make myself at home
surrender to the will of the night

ALONE!

an owl's hoot pierces the darkness
a wildcat forages in the undergrowth
nobody hears him, let alone sees him

a transient dawn
morning, half awake
the blue loch enhances the speck
against a sea of white

the sun carves out a golden bowl
the speck is in the corrie

the sun carves out a golden bowl
nothing can escape it's mellowing sheen

the sun carves out a golden bowl
the speck is slowly moving up the hill

the sun carves out a golden bowl
as the speck glides effortlessly
to the summit of the speckled mountain.

The River

The River Ewe sauntered past our dining room window

FLOWING

evening mist drooped mournfully down Torridon's humps

GLOWING

tree lined verges were reflected in it's placid waters

SHOWING

twisting out of sight into a soothing April night

KNOWING

ox- bowing round the oppressive bulk of Liathach

ASKANCE

at home by the Prince of the spears, Slioch


PERCHANCE

but one genteel moonlit  April night
when Badgers haunt Torridon's mounds
and the River Ewe's delta is Otter's playgrounds
we went for a walk, just my friend and me
but alas it was too dark for what we wanted to see.

Vital

vibrancy
emanated
bookshelves
ruminated

grass
punctuated
bridges
terminated

cartilage
splintered
time
suspended

streamlined
unwind.

Risk

two people meet
they fall in love
life is so sweet
on the wings of a dove
they fly...

kids come along
it's just part of the song
we still kept a grip
as we sailed on the ship
of life...

time passed by
alone we fly
a family of four
for twenty years or more
our pride...

then a young bird
flew too close to the sun
scorched her wings all around
and fell to the ground
we cried...

played a board game together
seemed to last forever
the sun always shone
but that's the end of the song
we tried.

many people are surprised on learning that the author/poet (pictured) is apparently one of the most intelligent people in Britain!