1351

Between engagements

What do I want for tomorrow?

I've a day off in Brum;

A time for relaxation

(Given there is no sun)?

A time to think, to consider

Just what I want from today.

To open up ideas,

Far from the mocking fray.

Of meeting after meeting,

Of emails and phone-calls,

One damn thing after another;

No space for me at all.

No space to see the pathway,

No space to unwind,

No space to sort confusion,

No space for me to find

The Way you set before me,

The Way I want to go,

The Way that is so easy

For in my heart I know

That all that's really needed

Is my willingness to see

That you are always waiting;

The problem here - is me.

Brian Hick March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 5.4.25

 1356

What would moonlight be

            With nobody to see it?

What this melody

            With nobody to hear it?

What this apple tree

            With nobody to taste it?

What this flowing stream

              With nobody to touch it?

What this blooming rose

            With nobody to smell it?

What would this world be

            With nobody to love it?

Brian Hick March 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 2.4.25

 1350

The joy of farting

As a cyclist overtakes

Is beyond compare.

Brian Hick March 2013

 1349

You come to me and speak into my silence,

You come to me and ease away my pain,

You come with love to lift my soul again.

You rise above the darkness of the night-time,

You blaze out in the early morning light,

You roll away my doubts and disillusion,

You cleave the limitations of my sight.

You stand by me, you strive when I feel beaten,

You gently turn me back go the right path,

You let me act, yet always there to guide me,

You may chastise, but anger does not last.

What can I do, when you've done so much more

Than my brief lifetime ever could repay?

What from this tiny speck of your creation

Could count for anything along the way?

Perhaps if I could love with just a fraction

Of that love which you have showered on me

My life, my hopes, my faith will count for something

As love flows out, immaculate and free?

Brian Hick March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 1.4.25

 1348

The fields lie heavy, brown with broken soil,

Skirted by thin hedges and dull trees

That watch the ruttted silence, standing gaunt,

Until their branches mutter in the breeze.

No rats, no rabbits, no birdsong from the sky,

No sign of life, no hint of coming spring,

No cattle out to pasture, no new lambs,

No buds, no green, no insects on the wing

To hint that under all this sense of loss

The future fights to break unto the light;

Each root stabbing down as shoots rise up

Before exploding, ravishing my sight.

While you, who had this planned right from the start

Enjoy the silence of a thankful heart.

Brian Hick March 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 28.3.25

 1346

With the weather so bad, I thought it must be snow,

Those branches lined with blobs of brilliant white

Against the starkness of the bark beneath

Until they shimmered in the early light

And blossom drifted on the morning's breeze.

Surprised, I looked again and caught my breath;

The railway bank was dappled, overcome

By early Spring, as if a lingering death

Had been laughed off and shafts of the unseen sun,

Oozing through the trees, touched some with gold

And warmed each sleeping bud, returning hope

Of rebirth and the end of winter's cold.

So after days of darkness and of doubt

You smile on us with February's rout.

Brian Hick February 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 26.3.25

1347

A  bed

So comfortable

I did not notice.

Brian Hick February 2014

 1345

During the storm the birds had disappeared

But this morning a blue tit fluttered through,

Stopping briefly at the coconut,

Before it dived across the hedge onto

The barren branches of the only tree

Left in our garden.  It soon flew away

But a pair of blackbirds swooped down to the fence

Eyeing the line of seeds, but did not stay.

A sparrow landed, flustered, hesitant

Then two wood pigeons dropped onto the shed

'Til, singly, they pecked their way along the rain

To find the sesame seeds among the bread.

            Spring seems a long way off but this quiet morn

            Life returned with birdsong in the dawn.

Brian Hick February 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 24.3.25