Leafy London, garden roses, Late one summer’s afternoon. No recourse from tragic duty. Hope his kids are still at school. Stranger sorrow, swiftly rising

Marks on my thoughts, accents of introspection; Acute I find my observation. Grave deep the world; circumflexion breeds my circumspec…

When I at last shall die, what th… the meaning in this world of men - the flux that formed before my wak… when from that tranquil harbour fo… to pass again thru’ terra’s fiery…

Late inside The Orange Tree, a burly builder on his knees. Well earned pint now cast asunder, he sought respect - his only blund… -

I’m sorry if my attitude seems som… I love this life much more since… but by the same degree to hell I o… and now I know it’s not the 'get’… I’ve come to understand, life’s fu…

more paradoxical foolery..... I have enjoyed my senses for more… two eyes, a tongue, two hands - a… but I can’t see the noumenon you s… all I see is lots of stuff I make…

I followed an English rose to the gates of the Sahel - I thought I knew I loved her; I… young and couldn’t tell. ......all so long ago now, I don’t

I spoke two thousand years ago, wh… but much I said was misconstrued,… As Son of Man I said before, I a… I the ransom for the many ~ Throu… My Father’s house has many mansio…

Hush foolish pre-emptor who steals… Still that feeble flitting one wit… Dark distractor - lover of meaning… With deep solemnity let go of I,… In that space you thought was you…

1978 - Boarding school - The day… Grey flannel blazer, grey stone wa… Under a cold grey sky. Grey skinned strangers speaking gr… Long bleak and lonely,

Causal power, well of might eternal origin of life issued more than physic’ light - mass generated polarised. From energetic genesis,

The Atheist scoffs at talk of God and finds me rather odd! “We came from Nothing - Heading for Nowhere” “Nothing to Nothing -

To yearn for love is not a rarity but every man’s inevitability; craving satisfaction for our unbroken hearts - affirmation of existence

Contradiction mocks the pseudo-sage. No charlatan, this clown-chameleon; subject to his nature,

If I was an Afghan, whatever would I do? Bullets flying everywhere I wouldn’t have a clue! -