1274

My birthday's eve, bright sunlight and clear skies,

A morning shopping for the plastic cups,

Bowls and crisps and nuts.  No need for pies

On days like this as  spring time gently ups

The anti towards next weeks Jack-in-the-Green,

And the release of summer, though he must die

That crops might rise, birds mate and the lean

Winter months be just a memory.

How different from that day of endless grief

When you walked out to face a vile death,

Spat upon, derided, in belief

That what you did had meaning, and the Breath

Of Life, which freely fills my soul today,

Died in you, so I won't have to pay.

Brian Hick 29.4.13

©Sally Hick 30.4.25

 1266

Which way forward, given I am confused

And silence is the order of the day?

How can I decide when all's unclear?

No prophecy to point me on my way,

No sudden insight, message from above

No flash of light, no laws I must obey;

Just a feeling that I have to change,

Be positive, rather than this drift

From one unseemly moment to the next

Hoping that this one will give the lift

I need, the gentle breath to rise above

The dulling clouds and know the Son's bright gift.

Brian Hick spring 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 28.4.25

 1265

I know your silence is more palpable

Than any chatter here or holy writ,

But when I need an answer I'd prefer it,

As a human, if it chanced to fit

Within the normal range of understanding

Like talking to a friend for wise advice

From somebody I trusted, not demanding

Obedience on the strength of ancient vice.

I realise of course I'm daft to ask it

Given that nobody that I know

Has ever had a peep out of you lately

And problems here on earth just grow and grow.

So why, despite the evidence I fear,

Do I still believe that you are here?

Brian Hick  March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 25.4.25

 1264

Little Robin

Your chirrup

Stops me writing.

All I can do

Is laugh.

Brian Hick March 2013

 1354

The yew tree stands in silent witness to

The centuries of faith that sanctify

This quiet place.

The yew tree stands in silence as it did

Before the barrows grew, the Long Man stood,

The cursus ran.

The yew tree stood and I am silenced by

Its age, its witness and its dignity

Encompassing.

Brian Hick March 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 23.4.25

 1263

If I'm a writer, why can't I write?

For the last few days I've felt no need

Or rather, every time I've tried to find

A reason to do so, my mind is blank,

Nothing inspires or drives me to set down

Ideas which might have meaning just beyond

The trivial accidents of daily life.

And so I wait, but increased frustration

Demands I set down something, even if

It only fills a space upon a page,

Adds another number to the list

Which will be ignored eventually

As I try so sift the meaningful

From amongst the reams of meaningless.

The snow has gone, the sky is clear again.

Swans drift past like a corps de ballet

Waiting for their entrance in Act Two;

Geese are wary but the ducks ignore

The aquine aristocracy as they

Squabble over bread the tourists throw

Or early shoots along the river bank.

Brian Hick March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 21.4.25

 1262

Nice thing about rain;

No one tries to collar you

To save the Pandas.

Brian Hick March 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 21.4.25

 1268

                          Easter 2013

A Song of Love Unknown? Oh, not for me;

My life is filled with all that Love can give.

Love unexpected, Love without a fee,

Love that spends itself so I may live,

Love when anger overcomes my soul,

Love to raise my hopes out of the mire,

Love to cherish, Love to play the fool

Love to seer my spirit with desire,

Love regardless of the final cost,

Love of parent, husband, child and friend,

Love provoked to search for what seems lost,

Love lavished on me without end.

            In everything Your Love has always shone

            Far brighter than the glory of the Sun.

Brian Hick 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 18.4.25

 1353

The yew tree stands next to the Saxon chapel

Older than memory, its bifurcated spine

Propped and roped to protect its fragile life.

The yew tree stands

And so when the long Man's cutters grappled

With chalk or made their way in line

Along the cursus, with skin drum and bone fife,

To celebrate the solstice, as the knife

At sunrise cut across the downs to shine

Continuance to a valley, damp and dappled.

The yew tree stands.

Brian Hick March 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 14.4.25

 1352

Brum March 14

I should know better;

Next time I will stay at the

Ladywell Ibis!

A poem a day?

Why does the blank page

Challenge when it know today's

Is already written?

Polo Milanese very dull

And now I've lost a crown.

Brian Hick March 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 12.4.25

 1261

I quite like eating here

If only they would stop

Hyping all the food.

Jamie Oliver's

Wonderful Italian?

Bring me the Gavescon.

Brian Hick April 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 9.4.25

1260

Why do we wait?

Animals don't wait.

They do nothing, happily,

Hour after hour

Until they need to feed

Or lust to copulate

Then there's no waiting

They go at it until

It's done and then

They do nothing

Again.

But we ...

Brian Hick April 2013

©copyright Sally Hick 7.4.25 

 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