Feathered Air

If flame there was ‘tis gone, all passion spent

Men long dead or demented tell no lies

No track or trace remains of where they went

Of whether they were wicked or unwise

If scent there was ‘tis blown, in feathered air

Decaying roses, lilies, ashes, mould

Unburied memories of who was there

A whisper on the wind, a rumour told

If blame there was ‘twas ours, for being blind

For keeping silent doubt for all these years

In tangled groves the truth is hard to find

As unmarked mad men’s graves; weep hopeless tears

For smoke there is, all round us like a cloud,

Obscuring the light of fire from the crowd

by Gail


Transient Flame

For Steve

all flesh is grass

Transient Flame


How time flies;

Like birds and bees

Transient nectar

Deciduous trees


How leaves fall;

Like stars in sky

Meandering streams

Passers by


How oceans flow;

Like blood in veins

Wind over mountains

Bloom strewn plains


How life flames;

Like a fire fly

Light in the shadows

New born cry

by Gail