These Pancake Days

Had never known the pancake days

Her contribution to that sweetest feast

The land she worked

Had never seen a coffee house

Nor taste inhaled

Fast food a crust too quick consumed

While toil prevailed

 

Had never heard of internet

Her contribution down across the years

A lonesome sound

Had never seen a telephone

Imagined wireless

Her conversations few and far between

In language under stress

 

Had never wanted more than home

Her contribution all that any woman wants

Or man could need

Had never thought that there could be

Another way

Nor wished it so

Until that day

 

Had never once believed that she might find

Her contribution nullified by greed’s desire

And dark intent

Had simply held to land and work

To family and friends

Believed that that would always be

Until her end

 

Had never plotted, planned or killed

Her contribution life-affirming

Always so

Had shunned all retribution

Though bereft

Held fast to memories in death

While history slept

 

Had never thought that there would come a time

Her contribution could arise again

And she might live

That one would come from other days

With plan in tow

Would know what she had not

Right wrongs of long ago

 

Had never thought she might be pivotal

Her contribution wending down through time

A story lives

Had never known, how could she then

That space remembers and relays

Fills in the blanks and notices

Appreciates her ways

 

Had never known of pancake days

Her contribution to that sweetest feast

Eviction’s hand

Had never once confessed allegiance to a distant throne

Misfortune’s twist

A feudal lord, a flock of sheep

The tethered wrist

 

Had never once inhaled the bean nor tasted sweet by artifice

Her contribution to that cause

Too distant past in other age

Had never once known circumstance

That changed her ways as that day did

While haunted she her highland home

To simmer there till duty bid

 

Had never known such vengeance in her heart

Her contribution now a bloodlet thing

A howling cry

Had thrown her past into the present

Outwith all time unto this place

The peat is prepped, the griddle hot

These pancake days

Pending

Vague world she lives within, and outwith, distance

Abstraction’s silhouette is lost to all

In body, mind and soul, without existence

Suspending rumoured life with no recoil

Her vantage is exterior, objective

Surveyor, with a click, her irised eyes

Scan in black and white, a negative

Unequalled glimpses caught devoid of lies

Approval pending passionless perusal

Time, motionless, postponed, at strange command

Impassively, she views without arousal

No finger lifted by immobile hands

She’s frigid in a zone bereft of features

Motility awaits what other thinks

Canopied reflection while viewed creature

Intuits fate, her future indistinct

Her patience ponders choices until certain

A settled will determines when she moves

Eternal present fleeting while one person

Verifies inaction and approves

Legging It

I’m not pregnant

I’ll never be again (just so’s you know)

Then why’s my belly so distended

(Like I’m three months gone

And my secret’s starting, now, to show)

 

It could be constipation

But I don’t think that’s it

If you’re at your dinner, please excuse,

For the first thing that I did, on returning home from work,

Was to take my kindle for a sit

 

It might be all the Revels that I ate last night

Why, oh why, I did, I do not know

Except perhaps for comfort

(That all chocolate brings)

We women ( and some men) know this is so

 

It could be from the BLT that I ate for lunch

Sitting in my gut and festering

Wondering why I did

(When I did not enjoy)

Exponential indigestion and thinking

 

It could be from the second glass of wine consumed

Unused, this while back, to tasting grape

Gurgling in my gut, with too little food,

Objecting, as tums do

And going ape

 

I’m thinking that it could be from the seven weans

Who’ve stretched my belly out of sync

And, as soon as I relax,

It all goes to pot

No wonder mums and dads need stronger drink

 

I’m tempted to suggest that I’ve been too lax

In yoga exercises and the rest

Delaying till tomorrow (what needs done today)

Of all excuses,

This one sounds the best

 

My tablet’s resting on a little mound

(It’s handy and I think I’m doing well)

Slurping on the red stuff

(With too little food)

Relaxing while my tummy grows and swells

 

Maybe I am windy, (hadn’t thought of that)

It’s never on my mind (swear on my heart)

Maybe if I squeeze

(And groan a little bit)

I’ll get a flatter tummy and new start

 

I’m not troubled by the swelling

(Well, maybe just a bit)

It’s awkward, as hell, in too-tight jeans

Bugger all the effort, (I paused to hunt them out)

I understand why people wear leggings

 

The comfort that they bring (never mind the bulge)

Explodes the myth of uncool (all that guff)

It’s either that or jammies

(And it’s way too early)

And too many folk here to go in the buff

 

I’m tranquil in my leggings with my pregnant pause

(Revels are waiting in the drawer)

The working week is over

(Thank god for it)

Why would any working woman want more

 

Yoga on the morrow

(With my fingers crossed)

(It’s not my fault, she cancelled every class)

Not worried ’bout the belly (I can cope with that)

But don’t get me started on my arse!

Hope Sings And Dances

Hope_1

(source)

Hope springs eternal in the fields where freedom grows

Gushes forth forever and, with liberty, it flows

It dances and it frolics while it buds and builds anew

Pleasures in the pastures where the words are strong and true

It glories in a garden that will always foster fair

Edifying, magnifying, everyone who’s there

It weaves and wanders wondrously, pervading every dream

Paves the way with petals that are always what they seem

It does not lie to have its way, though despairing may accuse

For it’s allied with the future and a world it won’t abuse

Hope springs and dances for the right to live again

In the hearts of all who seek it and feel its longing pain

Hope smiles and witnesses, will not abandon you

But dances still because of life and dreams it won’t eschew

Remember, in that garden, there is room for all who see

That winter cedes to spring that blooms each and every year

We nurture it and take it with us everywhere we go

And tag the dancers, one and all, so hope its seeds may sow

With hope that never dies a death, for eternally it springs

We build a world that starts, right here, where hope will dance and sing

Give hope a voice that reaches far and fills the hills and glens

A voice that touches one and all, transforms their lives and then

Let hope be in the notes of every song it can conceive

From island homes to city streets for, with hope, we may believe

So when hope asks for permission, for it never will impose

Let all who hear the voice of hope sing all the songs hope knows