FREEDOM COME SLOW

FREEDOM COME SLOW

We sit locked away from the world,

like Billy Hayes from Midnight Express,

The end day tantalisingly close,

Until its snatched away once more,

Our leaders treating us like mice,

teased and tortured by a cat.

And we make plans for our release,

re-routing previous plans,

which have already been dashed.

And our dreams are so small,

A week beside the sea,

A crowd at a football ground,

A night out on the town,

All the things we took for granted,

Now feel like special gifts from God.

These are inalienable rights,

Hard won from servitude and slavery,

Again stolen by diktat,

In obedience to so-called science.

Which has been shown time and time about,

to be false prophesy!

And yet I feel in a minority of one,

In realising this tyranny,

So either the one-eyed man is king,

Or I face the ducking stool,

As mad heretic,

It doesn’t really matter which.

DALE M 2021

LORELEI CALLS

LORELEI CALLS

Each night as dusks falls across the landscape,

And turns the vibrant river into a morbid black stain,

She divests the scales and embraces the cold water,

The stone sits like a guru in the midst of the tumult,

A beckoning call to prayer, the pain in her heart,

The yearning overwhelms her, a choke in her throat.

The black and bobbing river would take her easily,

But it could not contain her heart-ache,

Could not bear the heavy load she holds,

Her black and ringlet wet hair creates a union

Between mortal and ineffable infinity,

She has to come nightly and the river runs on.

She slowly lifts herself from the cloying cold,

Escapes from the blanket of submersion,

She stands upon the rock like a sentinel,

Searching the horizon for evidence,

That her beloved may be somewhere close,

She cups her hands to begin her lament.

The sound of her song sells the sorrows of the Earth,

Whispered words of a wanton wisdom,

Each direction her voice echoes across the shore,

It’s aching longing is beyond anyone to ignore,

It is as a baby’s cry, no-one parent can resist,

And it draws all in hearing to a sad demise.

And when her song is sung,

And she sees the mortal remains of those drawn,

She swims around the black and bobbing river,

Checking each frozen face for that of her beloved,

She sorrows for those lost because of her,

But cannot deny the urge to sing for him,

No matter what the cost maybe.

Sailors of that black and bobbing river,

Know better than to listen to her song,

And resist by humming their own retort,

Is he amongst their number?

Does he know she only sings for him?

I fear not, for her song is immortal,

And he has long gone the way of mortal man.

DALE M 2021

FIRST FISHING

Went fishing with my bro Jason today, well I say fishing… The only fish we saw were the sprats I bought as bait for pike…

We haven’t even seen each other since xmas eve, so it was just great to share time with my best buddy. Just to have a conversation, to have a bit of banter, it makes so much difference to your life. He has a lot to put up with at the moment, so just to be able to share your emotions with somebody you trust is just heaven sent for both of us. The birds were singing very loudly, and it felt like spring, this winter has felt never ending, so the prospect of spring is just such a gorgeous concept.

No we didn’t get a bite, but really the fishing was secondary to mental health benefits.

Dale M

THIS…

THIS

Remember the precipice walk around Dolgellau,

You in your tight blue jeans which took me aback,

Like you were still the girl from 1976,

And we picked up sticks all the way around,

Just in case we ran out of gas…

We ran out of gas… You pouted like a little girl,

What no tea?

I made a fire, boiled the kettle whilst you sulked,

and when I called you out , you saw the cup…

You smiled almost in spite of yourself,

And said It was the best cup of tea ever…

And we sat and drank our brew and smoked dope,

and watched the sun slide down below the horizon.

That was a fun time. We saw dolphins not twenty yards away from the shore.

It was tight in the little tent and I built a kitchen beside it,

and we swore that we would never part… never be apart

again.

This is yearning I feel every day. One of two is no number to be.

Dale M 2021

WHERE THE WILD THINGS GROW

WHERE THE WILD THINGS GROW

And we’d go to that place,

you know the one I mean,

The place where all the wild things grow,

Overgrown and unkempt,

like the best of us…

As we were,

As we are,

And as we shall be again.

And we shall trumpet the unloved!

We shall banquet amongst the brambles,

Drink the nectar of the Gods,

as we did,

as we do

And as we shall again…

Watching buzzards tumble in the sky,

with their plaintive cry an eternal wonder.

And this will be our claim,

Heralds of the wild places,

Together in a knot of tangled caresses,

Never alone and never unloved,

as we do,

as we have,

and forever more shall be so.

In our love we shall always be wild.

Dale m 2021

WILD PLAYLIST

JUST TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE KNOWS THIS LINK IS TO THE WHOLE PLAYLIST OF 29 TUNES, NOT JUST THE FIRST ONE.

I FEEL LIKE GOING WILD EVEN THOUGH I’VE OFFICIALLY JOINED THE OVER SIXTIES NOW.

THE MIND IS WILLING BUT THE FLESH IS WEAK. DAMN YOU RUGBY UNION!

DALE M