Grey The Mood

(A poem re-write based around a funeral I went to, as well as being inspired on a day when a friend had a funeral to go to. Both days, a storm brought heavy wind and rain. 
The poem is written for her and for me and the friend I lost all those years ago)

The rain lashed down.
Cold,
freezing cold,
partly sleet,
cold sleety rain.
The wind howled
throwing the rain against the grey slate of the church roof.
Mourners,
wrapped in coats and jumpers and scarfs,
umbrellas abandoned,
useless in the gale,
standing by the graveside 
each alone in their loss
their thoughts expressed on their faces.
The relentless rain,
the location,
the ceremony.,
...all seemed appropriate. 

Grey the sky.
Grey the churchyard. 
Grey the hearts.
Grey the mood.

(Haiku)

I quit the fags by
eating sweets. Now I simply
need to quit the sweets

(Haiku)

A pitch black gloom gives
way to cold, dull, misty grey -
Colours of Winter

From Me Shed

I'll never be a 'Vermeer' 'cos I'm alive,
me poetry won't sell cos I'm not dead!
So I'll have t'keep on writin',
hope me paintin's keep ignitin'.
Scratchin' a simple livin' from me shed!

Storm Arwen


Arwen.
Ahhhrrr-wen!
Her very name sounds like an angry wind!

Storm Arwen.
Arwen came and Arwen roared!
Furious!
Wronged!
Seeking revenge!
Marching throughout the land,
trees bowing down before her,
offering their leaves in appeasement.
Their branches screamed in pain under her power.
Many failed,
breaking down,
branches like limbs strewn across the earth.
Mercilessly,
savagely,
rampaging across the land,
pillaging,
laying waste to all who offer a resistance,
futile,
...futile,
   ...futile resistance!

Her destruction done,
Arwen takes to the sea
...and Arwen was gone!

And Where is Tomorrow


Where is yesterday?
Where is the man I'm going to be?
And where does my end begin?
Is the child in my heart?
What happened to his dreams?
And what happened to all those endless summer days?
...where do clouds go?

It's like the sky on a dark morning. 
Its like the air that you breathe. 
It's like the words that you speak.
It's like the thoughts in your head and the love in your heart,
and your hurt,
...and your pain.

And where is tomorrow?
And why is tomorrow?
And what tomorrow will there be?