Fog

A fog bank rolled in
Chased by a west wind,
Muffling breakers
Familiar roar.
Darker than midnight
Cold as a warning,
It crept from the ocean
And crawled on the shore.

Silently tumbling
Deep Into the city,
Cloaking the street lamps
Familiar glow.
Touching the people
With icy wet fingers,
Featureless shadows
With nowhere to go.

Grey is the pallet
In shades of distortion,
Revealing confusion
Nothing seems real.
A pale orb is rising
Sun in ascendance,
Strangely diffusing
A dawn that's surreal.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.

Four in a Row

Four in a row, four in a row

Creep where the toxins overflow,                 

From chemicals that ooze below    

Just gargoyles from the undertow       

No cattle, wheat or rye.  

Three in a row, three in a row

Sleep where the poison rivers flow,

Breath softly as the tumours grow

No scar so friends will never know  

Your fearful lullaby.     

Two in a row, two in a row

Still learning less and thinking slow,     

Don't ask again but watch the show  

Prime time your daily mind tableau  

Don't ever question why?   

   

One in a row, one in a row

Wrapped in your faith but even so  

No miracle will save you though    

The world is blinded to your woe    

And deafened to your cry. 

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012.

Think of a Time

Think of a time you stumbled in your life

Feeling a way as sightless in the night,

Falling through empty spaces day to day

Begging some unknown spirit for the light.

Think of a day that dawned to find you lost

Wandering lonely in some crowded street,

Everything won was at too high a cost

Then given away, surrendered in defeat.

Think of the day the darkest one of all

Finding the fight no longer worth the prize,

Peeling your mind like paper from a wall

Abandoning hope to feel redemption rise.

Think of the moment, you alone may know

What lit the flame that kindled deep inside?

A letter, a call a thought from long ago

Or sudden love that turned that awful tide?

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2012.

Fields of Lavender

From a spring above the fens    

A chuckling rivulet descends,  

That squabbles with

The rocks and bends. 

Cascading, tumbling

Where it ends    

In fields of lavender.    

Freed from caverns underground  

Crystal waters leap and bound,     

Through Forests deep

Their laughing sound 

Replays and echoes

All around 

Bright fields of lavender      

Weary now, I close my eyes

Sleep cradles me as water sighs,

Far, far from slate grey winter skies

I dream of lavender.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.