My poems…

I hadn’t written any poems for more than twenty years - and then some friends ganged up on me…

A Dying Tree

A hundred years or more

I’ve stood here anchored to the floor

A mound of needles at my feet

But now I’m laced by silken strands

That twist inside my shell

My bark is split my leaves are brown

With golden rivers running down

My gnarled and furrowed skin

Where beetles stick and gnats

Die slow in golden honey traps

This resin, like my blood, is shed

And soon the rains, on which I fed

Will wash away my roots

My branches weak with dying fruits

Will rot and tumble free

A fungus now invades my soul

My xylem and my phloem know

My days are numbered, still

I’ll stand and face the sun with pride

As men use axe and saw

I’ll show no pain as work is done

I’ll let them tear me limb from limb

As light replaces gloom

My seeds are drifting on the wind

To fall on softer soil

I know they’ll stack me high and dry

My outline now replaced by sky

My bones will soon burn bright

So free my spirit, warm your hands

And take me sweet Silvanus

©️Paul Murdoch, May 2022

A Fleeting Glimpse

A fleeting glimpse of life

And all its complexity

A breath, a smile, a tear and then…

It all goes spinning round again

Like Goldilocks, in perfect state

The distance and the weight

Are crucial to survival

But who are we to be so clad

In all our self-important ways

A trillion hearts, or more, still beat

Above our heads, below our feet

In their own world, to them complete

In every smallest detail

Beyond our ken of things

And well out-with our grasp

Where planets circle other suns

With battles fought

And never won

I wonder at the shape of things

And what their minds contort

To bring them comfort

Show them peace and give

Them hope in their own place

Although I’ll never greet them

Face to face

I see them in my mind

On silver wings that beat the breeze

Through amber-coloured, rusting leaves

A billion moths confused by moons

That shine on different days

Where Minotaurs are common place

And dragons vie for time and space

A whispered cry will soon replace

The pulse of life there too

When monster suns devour

The night, and galaxies spin

Out of sight

Will I still stand alone

On some enchanted shore

©️Paul Murdoch, May 2022

The Post Gig Drive

A magic glimmer

In my head

Of notes and adulation

Of winding wires

And tearing down

The sound of bending notes

My clothes are wet

With well-earned sweat

As lights are packed away

Guitars strings rusting

As I speak

Our demon steed awaits

This tender dash

Post-coital clash

Of sweet release, the final

Race for home

The car backs out

From smoker’s reek

Regurgitating songs

And sounds

We travel swift

On mesmerising

Lines of white

We ride

The winding ways

A teenage haze

Of memories and banter

An owl looks on

As bats collide

In gantries high above

A love is here

I can’t explain

The feeling of relief

With money in my pocket

And my best friend

By my side

As I grow older

Still I feel

The bond between

A man and wheel

Guitar and steel

In everlasting night

©️Paul Murdoch, May 2022

The Eternal Edit

Two decades of refining

Mining minds and building worlds

My baby and my mantra

my never-ending slog

Too precious to release

Not quite at peace or what I had intended

This tome, my home

A legacy that no one will discover

A well-meant tale

Of magic and endurance

Of family and procurement

A piscine splash of wonder

I must let go and see

If love survives

Or dies beneath the lash

Of crimson pens

A thousand letters never sent

A swathe of emails

Drafts deleted

Uncompleted

It’s almost time to let it go

And brace for failure

Trace the lines

On face and page

Imperfect child

Unfinished business

Hidden from the taunts of men

Perhaps it’s time to start again

©️Paul Murdoch, May 2022