A quick look back (while walking in Skipton)

Portentous was the day
a half moon hanging way
up in a blue sky tinted grey
by occasional cloud cover

I, appraising proud mother
of mayflies, March hares and other
monthly wonders
Uncover sumptuous blunders
of happenstance and glancing blow
from guiding lance under arm
of emancipation’s champion

Freeing man from strains of strident time
defiant sublime bell
ringing a chime
as its hourly swinging
climbs up the spine

A spindle in a wheel of a reel to reel
careens to reveal sounds appealing
to any dealing with needless anguish
Feeble attempts to feed with language
medulla’s muted moods
Its convoluted attitudes
so crudely imbued with murderous ineptitude

Eventually you’d think
he’d conclude that to drink
until sinking heart lays
with ships in inky blue ocean
would motion unthinking commotion
to become the only thing he knows

As devotion to his other slowly grows
and nobly she assists him back onto his toes
at the starting line
imparting fine feeling of rest

Lay silent now
Be still
Be blessed

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