It would have been my dad’s birthday today. Happy Birthday, Dad.

It would have been my dad’s birthday today. Happy Birthday, Dad.

It was probably a good day. It was good to see Jo briefly…

There is more to a rose

Than its thorns

The colour of the flowers

The spread of its leaves

It bears the burden well

An imperial face

In a hedgerow.

Wherever I go

I know the way home

Lies just to the west

Of the old Oak

On the hill

It is a welcome sight

A monument to good

Husbandry

As the farmland spreads

Below.

I often tarry awhile

In conversation

I watch as the Sparrow Hawk

Swoops

To worry the mouse.

There is weight to every action

No matter how trivial.

The weft of vapour trails

Across the sky

Remind me of tomorrow

Which is as far away

As yesterday.

Nothing matters as much

As the smell of morning

The sparkle of dew

On a rose petal

The welcome of my hearth

On a cold night

When the old ghosts

Stop at my door

Closed,

To all but you.