From "I Find My Way" 1976
all poems on this page © winnie caw 2002
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Autumn 1970

Snowflakes

A gust of wind, and all is whirling confusion.
A blinding torrent of frosted rain

and glistening nothingness.

A feeling that one is being shown something beautiful.

Yet only for a moment.

Snowflakes.
A silent army of aliens invading the earth,

hitting the wet pavement,

and melting into indifferent

Uniformity.

A blanket of serenity and silence

on a winter's afternoon,
covering the dead earth

In a blissful cloak of peace.

Virgin snow.
Product of the Gods,

perhaps anxious to hide

Their creation in a sudden fit of shame?

***

November 1972

Echoes

Bells, pealing outside my window,

pull me back

to a time of

Sunday walks through country lanes;
Blackberry-stained fingers

complimenting

Guilt-stained mouths.
Leafy mudded paths leading to
Lazy brooks

revealing

Flashes of stickleback and red-throat.

caught in a jam-jar?

Never the same.
Never again.

***

Autumn 1970

Racing down the Hill

Polyanna - playing in the long grass.
Sweet smell of poppies and ripe golden corn...

can you see me?

Gunshot.
The world turns, and

there is silence, hanging on

heavy air of late summer.

Pigeons flee.
We see

a scarecrow

foolishly extending dead arms to the empty sky.

Peace

Full of life and busy sounds

stealthily conquering the green fields.

Wars

Conducted in sunny silence

as spider eats fly

and cat
mouse.

Now nature lives.

***

Summer 1971

Envy

Fireflies

Dancing in the evening sunglow.
Weaving an intricate pattern.
Hovering, diving, soaring.
Avoiding a crash with a neighbour

in the nick of time.

Free to move where they will

without interference from their betters.

Would I were a firefly now!

***

Autumn 1972

The Road

The Road is long

and flocked with travellers going one way.

Starting with empty pockets and minds,

following the path, simply because

There is no other.....

....at first.

Gathering wayside flowers and weeds.
    
    Pricked and stung

with wounds that sometimes never heal.

A side turning appears.

    Some turn off to rest

and never return.

Others glance in

and are not interested.

Soon

snowdrops and crocuses

daffodils and gardenias

are to be seen no more

The scent of roses

lingers everywhere.

Passions die a little

but the pace is just as fast.

Only when the travellers

are stuffed with autumn's fruit

and weary

Does the wind of relaxation and tolerance

blow across the road in strong gusts;

Sweeping some off their feet;

    Forcing others into sheltered side-lanes

from which they never return.

The Road is long

and no-one knows

the tavern at the end

used as a rumour

To encourage the slow stragglers

and foot-weary.

Yes, the Road is long...

***

23 July 1973

Sound of a Music Box (song)

In the well, the voices are calling,

they're calling for more wine.

While, up above, it's easy to see

that the people have no sign.

Round and round, a wide whirling circle

which leads us to God-knows-where.

If you reach up and try to touch it

your mind will turn and stare.

Come with me, your body will shatter

and scatter, upside-down.

Oh - never mind - the water is coming

so let's all go and drown.

***

University of Surrey, 18th November 1973

Shadows

The trees sleep tonight;

hiding their weary limbs

in the mist of darkness

cloaking everything.

Darkness; lending poor protection

to Lazy Night.

No match for the Sun Warrior;

stealer of darkness, weariness and sleep.

***

Easter 1971

Soul mate

You are gazing

into a world where I have no place.

What are you thinking?

Who are you?

We are strangers.

To you, I do not exist.

Although I am willing you to look towards me...

you do not know.

And I know that this is the closest

we will ever be.

How sad it is that such promise of bliss

can never even begin to exist.

And yet, we are bound together;

We both do not belong

to that loud world

of flashing colour and music.

You do not dance.

You neither drink nor smoke this evening

as we meet and do not meet.

There is a barrier between us.

A barrier of time and of not-knowing.

A bond of boredom and of not-belonging.

And I am left with a feeling that it could have worked.

Who knows?

***

University of Surrey, 6th February 1975

The tree

It stands alone out there;

Arms offered to the sky.

It doesn't know its raison d'Ítre

as all else passes by.

The countryfolk all know the tree

and rest beneath its shade.

Mute promise scratched in shady bark

remembers boy and maid.

The wheels of Time have cycled past,

with War and Peace astride.

Summer, Winter, Spring and Fall;

to leave no scars inside.

I've wandered through the fields of Fate

and been all I could be;

But should, perhaps, have been the Tree

and let all come to me.

***

University of Surrey - Autumn Term 1974

Conclusion

The sun has gone

and fizzled out

in a dozy, cosy, red-brown sky.

From blinding orb

to sunken glow

in one slow swoop.

Taking regretful leave of absence

but, showing in its ruddy wake,

Promise of a bright tomorrow.

***

22nd January 1973

Loneliness is:

Eating and eating - and swearing to diet tomorrow.
Always being ready to go somewhere - with nowhere to go alone.
A feeling of nothingness - in the pit of your stomach.
Being unreasonably hurt - when someone forgets your name.
Getting all dressed up - to go to the library.
The more people you meet - the lonelier you feel.
Not wanting to do anything in particular - but feeling lost when there's nothing to do.
Having nothing to say - to your boyfriend.
Looking forward to sleeping - but not to tomorrow.

Feeling so fed up.

***

University of Surrey - Autumn 1974

Cocksure

He struts the stage.

An ape made-to-measure;

reciting the split infinitive,

the ludicrous soliloquy

(oh, 'qui' is he silly for?)

calls on the Gods

and all the Powers that Be;

His variegated lurex garb

a mockery to the occasion.

He cannot call forth the fire in me

as I leave by the fire-exit.

***

Winter 1972

Boredom

Snail on a hill-top;
Mountainous range;
Acres of diamonds;
Wise old sage.

People are wondering;
Looking up high;
Searching for something;
Hidden in the sky.

No-one who goes there
Thinks he'll come back;
No-one who bows there
Thinks of the lack;

but

Snails on a hill top;
Scraping the soil;
Know all to be found there

Is ...all.

p.s. Dear Reader...
Please remember that the ravings of a lunatic reflect the ignorance of man.

***

University of Surrey - Spring Term 1975

Lines written whilst the girls are chattering

Sitting on the present,

and feeling to be following the past;

Though I'm away from tomorrow,

on a cloud I'm holding back;

Nodding acquiescence to a mood of boredom.

Anywhere but here and now would be delightful -

and more so - if it wasn't me;

Trapped in easy deception and depressed disillusion.

Being other than what they think;

and not trying what I know I am.

Carbohydraholic catastrophe, sitting in your chair;

Just make the effort and you too will be there!

***

14th March 1973

I am

I, am
A piece of the future;
A many-sided, leftover product of the past;
But, most of all,

I am, now.

***

University of Surrey - May 1977

Satisfaction

Point at the sky.
What do you see?
Clouds hanging heavy, so ominously;
A patchwork of oranges, sky-blues and grey.
Let's go home for tea.
That's enough for today.

***

Summer 1971

Complacency

You look ...... but you do not see.
You try ....... but you'll never be.
I am .......... what I am is me.

It is ......... it will never change.
Life is ....... an eternal thing.
The End ....... means to start again.

***

10th March 2004

Beside the Pilgrims Way


There is a hill above a market town.
On that hill, a place of learning.
In that place are many courts.
In those courts are many people.
Of those people,† many snaps.
Many snaps, many people.
Many people find those snaps.
Snaps of people,
††††† on a hill,
††††† above a town,
††††† beside the Pilgrims Way.
www.uossnaps.co.uk

ALL POEMS COPYRIGHT winnie caw 2004

Selection of Vol. II @  Going Down the White Hill - Poems 1989 - 1996

Selection of Vol. III @  Bus Stops - Poems 1996 - 2002

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