A note from Alice

Down out in the wind
sun glints on this pen
spreads blindingly over the whipped white water.
A  clear view of the wind
here in the red benched half circle
where seasons stay the same
one
endless summer
weaving gold and fire on the trees.
The Summer man smiles blazed bright
in the red shelter and marvels at what he sees.

Now by Adam Parry

Now, in this bright morning,
golden and thread about each other.
I pause to stare more at the details
of fallen leaves. Not so many.
It sees obviously summer
as the
heat bangs down on me like lost kisses.

No postie came to my door
no junk mail
no 1/4 price beds for sale or charities for the whale
The flame of the still green remains
the same and the foxgloves will stay awhile.
The electric and wires remain,
perfect tightropes no-on would dare

I see a spider-web over there.
I wonder whether to remove it
they are useful for taken out the flies
and sometimes in the right night
they waft in the sunbreeze . I go to-
remove it- change my mind.
My hear seeing beauty at the back of my eye. So I leave it for now

Dreaming of the Silver Birch by Adam Parry

She spent  the day embroidering the sun
seemed to take so long
but by the time stilled, put away the thread.
All the children have risen from their beds
She watched then come out into the blue, blue day.
In the evening escaped the house heat
and found a stone in the long grass.
She fell asleep, dreaming of the silver birch
and seagulls playing faraway
and the morn's morn stitched new thread
of white and morning glee
and laughed the children on their way
New lessons learnt
this and every day.

Out by the taxi driver's garden
the children play, the Happy Land.
Now a open gate where horses beckon
with the swish of their manes.
I cannot hear what the are saying.
As the speed of light through the dense dirt on the window
muffles that game they're playing.
Another noise in the distance.
A plane flies west as the sky clears and I see
through my foggy frames a thousand light years ahead.
I torn my neck and play the same game but in my music
and my shadow.
No need for light
or a necessity to sham
as naked under the streetlight
I play in the rain.

Of what do you really dream? by Adam Parry

To turn back
a moment, to know it can be done,
all free now, all silent, no way to stay young.
My face all crumpled
all shaded and scorned.
These  laughter lines like new children
waiting to be born.

BORN BY ADAM PARRY

Born to be selfish
born not to care
born to be ugly
born for us all.

Grown in then city
nutured by smog
Breeded by money
Living to work.

Time to pay back now
this cheque will no bounce.
Paying back interest on tears and on blood.

Buying back the silences
and homes for the blind.
Love takes a hostile take over
Or is that all in the nind.

To all sides...peace by Adam Parry

Peace has broken out
in pockets it reamains
inside people peace never went away,
but in all these peaces
war never ceases.
No prayer, no song
no life long negotiations,
changing front war
but peace marches,
bend and break
and reconciliates, peace keeps
pushing, but unlike war,
peace will never end