Sunday, 29 January 2012


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.

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

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.

Tuesday, 3 January 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.

Sunday, 1 January 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.

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