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

 1421

Dying branches overlap to form

A mass of Celtic tracery

Dense and disappearing.

The hills are brown with winter

Dull beneath

The cloying skies soft clouds.

Brian Hick January 2015

©copyright Sally Hick 19.1.26

 1420

So what does this year promise as I sit

In contemplation on the train to Stafford

For a family party and a chance

To catch up with those we seem to know

Only through facebook or the odd

Skype appearance at Christmas or New Year.

Some more long distance walks, the Arun Isles?

Well maybe if the knees and legs hold out;

More likely the odd days across the Downs

With ever longer pub-stops and the excuse

That getting out at all is worth the risk

Of injury to hip or a slipped disc.

But this is incidental when the truth

Is laughing at me even as I plan

My life, as if I had the means to nudge

Events to go the way they ought to be

Rather than accept that everything

Is far beyond my reason or control.

Brian Hick December 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 31.12.25

 1419

Christmas is here; the cards all tell the story

And decorations fill the empty space

Where day by day the Christ-child and his glory

Should radiate his peace throughout the place;

But even as we sing the shepherd's tale

With angels bringing light to all the earth

The violence of man seems to prevail

And no one cares what single lives are worth.

Sing then, sing aloud for all to hear

Overcome the cries of sin and pain,

Purge away the terror and the fear

For Christ is born in Bethlehem again.

Brian Hick December 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 15.12.25