Poetry

Background Noise

Wherever we walk, the world quietens.

Be it woods, coast, park or town,

filled with the trill of birds and scurry of mice,

the crash of waves and sound of holiday makers,

students taking a break after a full day of college

or families and friends out for an evening meal.

 

All of it dulls to subtle hum

in the wake of our path and the intricately intimate maze of our minds.

Even though we know

we have to return to the crescendo sometime,

for the hours we stand together,

peace is all there is.

Poetry

Groundskeeper

We live in a world where everything

is on display, a constant waving of flags

we don’t even realise we’re holding.

And in it, all I want to do

is move away, find a quiet,

cosy area

and have it as my own personal space.

 

There are times when I start to succeed

and fit it with neat trellis

full of climbing roses and honeysuckle,

vibrant and sweet

in a way that doesn’t overload my brain.

 

Yet, inevitably, it seems,

there is always someone who trips and falls,

flattening the entire thing –

or worse, those who come charging in deliberately

and smash it to pieces

so small and sharp

that I have to start again from scratch.

 

But even in times when I’m standing in this mess of debris,

I always welcome the gentle call of a friend

who knows they need not ask to come in because they have a key,

yet always do so anyway.

 

They take my hand,

tenderly, respectfully

and help me sweep the mess away.