Dawn

No cockerel crows. Goodness knows!
It's morning, I'm yawning.
This is as good as it will get.
Dawn.


Capability Red     aprox'  1972

I Wrote a Postcard

I wrote a postcard at a moment in time.
Wherever I was, is now another place.
It made no sense and, the words didn't rhyme.
But, when read it echoes, somewhere out in space.


Capability Red          May 2019

Interference

Not on my wavelength. Very interesting.
The man in the electric suitcase.
It's a song?
But it comes across
as a Bill 'n Ben job.

In the sitting room:
Conflicting views.
Go and rearrange your face Jane.
Old folks dancing.
Ben's into astral projection.
Interference.


Capability Red             aprox' 1979

Have you ever written a love letter?

Have you ever written a love letter?
Not an e-mail, a text, or a tweet.
Are you still waiting for that love letter
which completely sweeps you off your feet?
Love letters from the heart, via the hand
and the pen, sealed by your lips with a kiss.
Sweeping her flat like waves across the sand
then, retreating with the love you both miss.
So, if reading old love lines brings on tears,
don't reminisce and let yourself be sad.
Indulge those blues in the love you once had,
love you both thought would only get better.
But, which has diminished over the years
and, now trickles into this love letter.


Capability Red             March 2019

For Those Who Were There

A first glimpse of Venus, or so we thought.
Then somebody said: "Hey, you know that's Mars!"
Forgetting lessons I was never taught,
as I stood with friends gazing at the stars.
Tell me: How many times has this red sky
haunted and threatened those cold, dark grey hills?
In Ortygia the sun said "goodbye"
for now, but depending on how she feels.
So, I wonder: Will I ever return?
And if I do, would it be to proclaim;
older and wiser, but never to learn
sunsets and sonnets are rarely the same.
Ending or beginning? Glimmer or glow?
Sunrise or sunset? We, will never know.


Capability Red       Feb 2019

Sore Throat Number Forty Four

I've got a sore throat.
Number forty four.
I've been counting them
and I've got one more.
It's coincided
with the Brexit vote.
Painful when I speak,
this sore throat.
It really hurts,
I'm losing my voice.
A bit like Brexit;
not much choice.
I'd like to argue
and say some more.
But, I've got a sore throat,
number forty four!


Capability Red            Jan 2019

What is going to happen next?

The watering can performs it's duty as you sleep.
Out of every dream drips a single tear
of happiness? Or, maybe fear.
And when that pool is overflowing
the garden surely grows.
The hanging basket knows.
But, do you know?
What is going to happen next?


Capability Red         aprox' 1974