Dark clouds are gathering behind my eyes,
inside my head an imperfect storm is brewing.
Black waves of thoughts froth and swell
then surge and crash
against my resolve.

A resolve that is a castle,
a castle built of sand.
Whose smooth walls have
withstood many storms and
although some of its parapets
crumble today the rest stands firm.

Once the storm passes I
lower my drawbridge, then
as for the rock pools of doubt
left behind, I tread carefully
round them.Wary of what
they might conceal.


I Can See the Sea from the Front Window

I can see the sea from the front window.
It’s just at the bottom of the garden.
Over the fence,
Past the road,
Down the steps,
Across the sand,
There it is.
Sometimes a passing bus obscures it,
Or a throng of sun-worshippers camp in front of it,
Or the men from the council trim the verge by it.
But if I stand on my toes,
Looking very closely,
Exercising a bit of imagination,
I can see the sea from the front window.