1427
Smile the sun is up, the train's on time,
I've coffee and a Kit-Kat as I sit
Writing this - so everything is fine.
Smile!
Smell the bacon rolls, the benefits
Of service at my seat or the sublime
Delights of doing nothing as befits
An OAP - not of course that I'm
The kind to sit around when I've the wit
To grasp each moment and to make it mine.
Smile!
Brian Hick February 2015
©Sally Hick 13.2.26
1426
My glass is empty, the sadwiches all gone;
And still the page lies blank - a silent threat
As if it knows my pen simply won't write.
The radio drones on, time, lengthening,
But still nothing comes and what's worse
My mind is like a gnat at summer's end
Desperate to keep busy out of fear
That if I stop I'll have to face the truth
That though I want to write much more than this -
Am desperate to ensure that I still can -
The blank page stares me out until I blink
And it has won again...
I reread these lines and realise
This dull dross is not fit for your eyes.
Brian Hick February 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 11.2.26
1425
A truce? So tell me now when it will end
Or rather why I should believe it will
Make any difference to the daily spree
O death and damage, killing off my friends.
A truce? A moment to pick up our dead
And bury them before it starts again
When one by one we'll drop into the mud
To vanish unremarked by those back home.
A truce? But never let us get too close
Nor recognise I've no desire to kill
You who gave me cigarettes and snaps
And shred a photograph of two small boys
And if it ever happens, would we dare
Believe our enemies, out there, might care?
Brian Hick February 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 9.2.26
1424
The winter sun has eased away the frost
Softening the ice edge where it turns
Transparent, seeping downwards as it's lost;
The winter sun.
By the sea wall a teenage couple stand.
Their silhouettes hung like a dying ghost
Of the day's heat, shimmers as his hand
Stretches out to touch her unseen face.
They move away towards the pier and
Fade, as falling twilight creeps to encase
The winter sun,
The winter sun flows on across the Downs
Lighting up the beacons as it cuts
From Firle to Lewes, Alfreston to Glynde.
The winter sun
Low in the east is bursting with new fire
To burn and quicken, purge and purify
Releasing dormant earth to rise again.
Each tiny root, each single sleeping grain
Touched in the thawing darkness out of sight
Will at his touch, explode into the light.
The winter sun.
Brian Hick February 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 5.2.26
1423
Monster
Fluffy maybe but is seems to me
Rabbits are much tougher than they seem
And need the onions, sage, fresh parsley, peas,
New potatoes, carrots and broad beans...
Kittens may be cute and their small games
Entertaining for an hour or two...
Nigel sips and pauses as his friend
Saunders takes a ladle full of stew.
Tipping the port later, they recall
Eggnog in Eastbourne that's good for a cold
In English winters, but how they yearn to see
Nairobi, where they used to work of old.
The glasses empty, words run out
Gaze in emptiness across the bay.
Brian Hick January 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 29.1.26
1422
Lord I need to hear your voice
Though I may not understand;
Lord I need to feel you near
Though I've not the strength to stand;
Lord I need to know you love
Though my love to you is weak;
Lord I need to give you thanks
Though I hardly dare to speak
For you are all that I could need
All that I desire;
Oh, fill me with your boundless love
Your passion and your fire.
Brian Hick January 2015
©copyright Sally Hick 23.1.26
