After Christmas Day

After Christmas Day

The lights have gone out.

Much ado about

Nothing. Except for

Those who cared. Those who

Did not have lost not.

The food stores may be

Depleted but full

Cupboards remain as

The gluttony is

Never matched by

The urge to store up

Against winter’s test.

Gifts, broken, ignored,

Discarded, litter

Bedroom floors. Cluttered,

Needle spattered room

Corners with hidden

Treasures. Whilst tired and

Battered relatives

Gladly return home.

Hopes and wishes may

Not be fulfilled but

For most, there is next

Year, and tomorrow

And the day after

Each special in their

Different ways. Each

A blessing, for life

Affirms the hopes and

Wishes we all have

Within us. For those

Without these blessings,

There may not be an

After Christmas Day.

Dave Urmston c Christmas Day 2016

Foggy Day

Foggy Day

A world full of certainties;

Fog changes all that for us.

Familiar places are

Strange, distances foreshortened.

Features shape shift and linger

Within a swirling world of

Change. Woven from the mist loom  

Emerging spectres swirl and

Play tricks. The Goblin pranksters

In their element lead you

Astray. Whilst you may ponder

The restricted world before

You, the cold air will grip and

Enfold You, cloying, clinging,

A Spider web of dew drops.

Dave Urmston c 2016

A Fire-side Poem

A Fire-Side Poem

Poems should not be cosy

Like the warmth of a winter-

Fed fire. But imagery

And the far flaming giver

Of enlightenment attest

To the spark of an idea.

The flaming coals a hot nest

For the flickering nuance

Of words consumed like a log.

Slowly ingested in dance

The realisation warms

The soul, as the fire dog

Holds back the discarded words.

Engulfed in the destroying flames,

Destruction and creation

Licking into ghostly shape

Fragmentary Ideas

That escape vaporously

Like so much rising hot air.

Dave Urmston c 2016

Music

Music

I know what I like

I like what I know.

“An eclectic taste.”

Easy answer for easy music.

I know little about how

The sounds interact

With my brain, but I do know

The emotional tugs;

How music can take me away

And I become detached.

Lost in a dance or

Just lost in a trance.

The rhythm and

Dissonance.

Whilst rhyming lyric

A syncopathic

Synchronisation,

Realisation

Of something that means

So much and yet is

A trifle; a sweet

Dessert to our life.

Dave Urmston c 2016