Poundbury

Poundbury

Conceived on a hilltop,

Conceptualised by a pillock.

A cancerous growth destroying

The fair Dorchester town,

Its Teutonic undertones

Ancestral reminders

Of the cultural heritage

Of the clown of a lost family.

Tesco-like structures.

Soulless spic and span

Planning. A princedom

For a tinkering

Aristocrat who will

Never live there.

Come friendly bombs

On this slough of our  

Intellectual thinking.

Dave Urmston c 2010

The Hawk

The Hawk

Patience is the life of the hawk.

She will sit long hours

Concealed within

Tree boughs, watching

And waiting; preening and shuffling

Feathers. Her very life

Dependent upon these fragile

Fibres. Then, when hunger signals,

She leaves her secure perch.

Shape shifting bandit of the skies;

Silent witness to the slaughter

That meets her desperate needs.

Death comes swiftly as the hawk

Spreads her cowl around the corpse.

Speed, agility and guile

All keened to the killing.

Dave Urmston 2016 c

The Stag

The Stag

Upon a hillock posed the mighty stag,

Antlers sway to announce his possession;

Warning all pretenders to his succession

With his eight pointed flag.

A state of tensed muscle and sinew

Roaring an echo throughout the glen,

Stretching neck and flaring nasal tissue

He challenges all to match his phlegm.

He dares not relax for e’en a moment

To let go the fruits of his endeavours

And release a hind from his embroilment

Seeking fresh pastures, gone forever.

What drives this beast of the hill

Whose herbivorous ways breed contentment?

No prisoner to the bloodlust; no need to kill

This ripe veteran of many an engagement.

It is the instinctive desire to procreate

That motivates and designs his behaviour

Seen in his violent attempt to berate

Challengers to his role as harem saviour.

It is not in anger that he flays the gorse

But to scent mark a warning,

Informing his foes

He will defend from night till morning.

King of the hill he shall

Remain until a pretender

Should answer the call.

Then the king may fall

For none can for ever

Stop what must come.

However we claim: never

Shall we succumb.

Dave Urmston 2016 c

Solace

Solace

So much of the talk is of Michelangelo

And I wish only to know

When the end will come

Of people who come and go.

My own rich thoughts

Of value rare

Are where my mind desires to go,

And the intrusion into these

Rare thoughts pollutes

The rarefied atmosphere

Of my intellect.

What then for a cloistered

Glass bead affair

Where in the thin air

I can focus on all that matters?

Dave Urmston 2015 c

Man's Best Friend

Man’s Best Friend

Surprised to see how much he understands,

Perhaps I underestimate his insight.

Different species can comprehend,

And I strive with all my might.

One day I lay on the floor.

Not my usual repose on the settee.

He came through the door

And came to lie beside me.

He knows when I want a walk.

I give no explicit sign.

There is no need for talk,

 His needs combine with mine.

He senses my emotions

Though by species we differ.

There are certain sensations

He can simply infer.

Most of all I wonder

At the loyalty he does show.

That a dog should wander

With his man in tow.

Please Call

Please Call

Sometimes I think:

How far can I sink?

There are other times,

When the signs

Are for the better,

I have to remember

Not to recall

When no one at all

Thinks to call.

Lonely

Lonely

The times of most despair

Are when the happy smiling

Faces are seen everywhere.

Then I find myself falling.

Of the things that hurt,

That hit me hardest,

Are the simple curt,

Polite enquiries.

People want too much

Of me. Things are such

That I cannot give.

I can only live

For and by myself.