Can it be wrong?
Can it be wrong
A shaft of sunlight through the trees
plays on the surface of a pool.
Unruffled by the slightest breeze.
Presents a scene both green and cool.
A quiet place to sit and dream
and while a pleasant hour away.
Just musing on some far fetched scheme
of what you might do one fine day.
The stillness calms your restless mind.
You feel all tensions drain away
forget the world you left behind.
Although you know you cannot stay
beside the pool within the wood.
Can it be wrong to wish you could?
2-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Day Off
A placid pool unruffled by
the slightest breeze reflects the sky.
The sky a cerulean blue
takes on a slightly darker hue.
Sometimes a fluffy cloud or two
will slowly drift into my view.
I sit beneath a shady tree.
I am content to simply be
an observer of the scene
and draw comparisons between.
The peaceful pool and the clear sky.
Its not my place to wonder why.
I am relaxing happily
exactly where I want to be.
02/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Time for M lady Ann Beard
Hoar frost on trees can imitate
the snow white blossoms of the spring.
On this I choose to meditate
to clear my mind of everything.
The whirling thoughts which madly dance
and try to hold my interest.
Cannot disturb my quiet trance
they cease to spin and fall to rest
My mind is clear as a deep pool
reflecting nothing but the sky.
The placid depths are clear and cool.
I’m only conscious I am I.
This is my time to simply be
If only temporarily.
2-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Autumnale for M lady ernestine
The falling leaves dance in the breeze
and clothe the ground beneath the trees,
in autumn colours rich a rare.
The trees themselves will soon be bare.
Left no defence against the wind.
Their winter plans are well designed,
bare twigs and branches hold less snow
than useless leaves they have let go
The wintry gales to no avail
try hard but they are doomed to fail,
They can’t destroy the sturdy trees;
resisting with apparent ease.
Although they bow before the blast
they know that winter cannot last
The winds will die and fade away
the trees will they’re here to stay.
Spring will return the trees will green
as if the winter had not been.
The trees put on their new spring clothes
along with every plant that grows.
8-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Dreamscape reality for Friend Thad
Some think Sci Fi is fantasy
which could become reality.
For it has proved so in the past
technology develops fast.
The far fetched tales of yesterday
are merely common place today.
Maybe in the next century
then men will travel easily.
To places we imagine now
although I cannot forecast how.
But until then we settle for
the time to dream and dream some more
of worlds we think that we create.
Who knows what wonder still await
what other treasures we may find
When we choose to leave behind
the world we know and simply go
into a heightened mental state
In which we can appreciate
That things aren’t always as they seem.
So just relax my friends and dream.
No matter how improbable.
Or how silly it may seem
Believing makes it possible.
17-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Here and Now for M 'lady Ernestine
I know a bank beside a stream.
Whereon the shy white violets grow
An Ideal place to sit and dream.
At least I know it used to be
but nothing ever stays the same
The world is changing constantly.
You can’t return to yesterday.
Though if you try then you will find
there is a price which you must pay.
If you are wise just stay away
retain your cherished memories.
It’s very different there today.
I could not even find the stream.
Instead a clutch of bungalows,
A cheap and nasty housing scheme.
I came away without delay.
I left as quickly as I could.
My cherished dreams in disarray.
I was a fool I should have known.
You can’t return to yesterday.
Far better leave the past alone.
Concentrate on the here and now
Where you can wield some influence
if circumstances will allow.
08/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Harmless Gossip
An avenue of stately trees
whose branches meet high overhead
exchanging gossip with the breeze.
This is the way that rumours spread.
When lovers stroll beneath the moon.
The trees observe their every move.
They dance to day to the same tune
their forbears danced to when in love.
Though fashions change, some things do not.
The trees have seen it all before.
All that they’ve seen is not forgot
but added the their growing store
of gossip which the trees then share
with every passing breeze that blows.
The trees will spread it everywhere
to all and sundry I suppose.
Be very careful what you do.
Although no one can see.
Know that the trees are watching you
and they will share quite happily.
Everything that they have seen
with any breeze that happens by.
With consequences unforeseen
By trees and breeze or you and I.
When strolling in a moon lit glade
Beware the moons soft silver rays.
That stir the blood of man and maid
to think this is the time and place.
19/09/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Enduring beauty for M'ladyCatherine Rica Coso
From bare black twigs against the sky.
Transformed by spring to blossoms white.
To me a more than welcome sight.
Which alas too soon will die.
But in their place new greenery
Leaves seem to unfurl overnight
in shades of green which catch sunlight
Add lustre to the scenery.
The leaves will last the summer long.
Before they don their autumn dress
in garish colours to impress
The winds which sing the winters song.
The trees return to nakedness
Retaining beauty none the less.
31-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Farewell for M lady Francesca
Glosa a tribute to
Katherine Tynan 1859-1931.
Not soon, shall I forget.
A sheet of golden water cool and sweet
The young moon with head in veils
of silver and the nightingales.
+=+=+
Not soon, shall I forget a sheet
of water silvered by the moon.
A quiet place where lovers meet
to share a pleasant afternoon.
A sheet of golden water cool and sweet.
A place of vivid memories
which mark both triumph and defeat.
I can recall at will with ease.
The young moon with her head in veils
They say foretells a weather change.
Wise weather lore which seldom fails
Although the experts find it strange
Of silver and the nightingales.
That is a secret I shall keep.
Your questioning is doomed to fail.
I can’t say why he ceased to care.
Tuesday,24 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The first Snow for M 'lady Tara
Now almost imperceptibly the snow is falling steadily.
Unruffled by the slightest breeze to coat the branches of the trees
with layers of the purest white which sparkle in the pale moonlight.
A sight that’s pleasing to my eyes. Beneath the trees a blanket lies
as yet a flimsy covering but it is slowly thickening.
As falling snow relentlessly, continues drifting quietly.
The world reverts to black and white. It is a bitter winter’s night
I sit and watch from my window backlit by the firelights glow.
I’m thankful that I need not go outdoors amidst the falling snow.
I am content to stay inside I much prefer my fireside.
Although it’s beautiful to see the snow descending steadily.
I am too old to brave the cold I leave that to the young and bold.
Tomorrow with the morning sun the children will be having fun.
With cries of glee they’ll greet the snow and I will watch from my window.
The antics of small girls and boys as they engage in childish ploys.
Just as I did so long ago when I could enjoy the snow.
One benefit of being old I stay inside when it is cold.
My aching bones will not permit me to do much more than sit
and watch the children as they play and remember my young days.
18/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inspiration, motivation, satisfaction
Your wants and needs are not the same.
You needs you cannot do without.
Your wants are quite a different game.
Things that you choose to dream about.
Long cherished dreams can motivate
you to make that extra effort
and when you win appreciate.
It was much easier than you thought.
Some people are content to dream
others will make their dreams come true.
All part and parcel of life’s scheme.
Dreamers just dream and doers do..
Though some of us combine the two
We dream at first and then we do.
Saturday,21 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Secret Place for Friend Thad
This lonely reed surrounded pool.
Far from the noise of other men.
Is always serene, cool and green.
The haunt of grebe and water hen.
I found it quite by accident.
Somehow it seemed to call to me,
as if it knew I’d be content
to sit beside it quietly.
And it is true I’m happy here.
I can find peace to meditate.
Nobody comes to interfere
and I achieve an altered state
of consciousness in which I go
beyond the little word I know
I recognise no boundary
and for a little while I’m free.
Although I temporarily
escape the laws of gravity
I must return reluctantly
to the world of reality.
This reed fringed pool has proved to be.
A place where I can instantly
attain perfect serenity.
Free from the worlds insanity.
2-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Amazed for friend Thad
I wandered in an ancient maze.
Close clipped hedges on either side
and as I walked its narrow ways.
I had no choice but to decide.
To choose the left or choose the right.
Which turning that I ought to take.
The dense Yew hedges curbed my sight.
I was confused, make no mistake.
The maze became a metaphor
for all the problems I must face.
Each is a case of either or.
I ponder as I slowly pace
along the tree lined corridors.
I feel my tensions disappear
and clearly see my future course.
The quietness I have found here.
Was truly worth the entrance fee.
My hour of silent solitude
has left my mind now trouble free.
Completely changed my attitude.
I will no longer strive to show
I am the leader of the pack l
The maze has taught me take it slow
before I earn a heart attack.
17-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who?
Celebrities, it’s plain to see.
Rely upon publicity,
if they’re not in the public eye.
They have to strive to rectify
the situation which they see
as being ignored completely.
That’s why they pull such stupid tricks
and misbehave like lunatics.
The think the public have to be
impressed by a celebrity
Despite the fact he is a fool
who has done nothing as a rule.
Except to court publicity,
which he must do assiduously
Or disappear from public view.
Nobody cares what happens to
celebrities who used to be.
World famous but no longer are
their place usurped by some new star.
They fade into obscurity,
almost as if they’d never been.
No longer part of the Cool scene.
They’re has beens now, not wannabees
With nothing left but memories.
23-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Karma
To sleep, perchance to dream and wake no more
I know I have to stay but long to go
and leave behind me all my cares and woe
Back to where I have often been before.
A place of rest in which I can restore
my weary spirit easily I know.
In soft green meadows where the waters flow
and work out what the future holds in store.
I must return I’ve lesson yet to learn
I am sure that death is not the end
but just another step along the way
Towards perfection for which I yearn.
Each wrongful action which I can’t defend
I know that I must suffer in my turn.
31-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Flaming June fo M' lady Ernestine
The night descends so suddenly.
It’s darker than it ought to be.
Unless I’m wrong the month is June
It’s not supposed to get dark soon
but then again it’s rained all day
from weeping clouds of iron grey.
What happened to the summer sun?
This cold and damp is not much fun.
It makes my old joints ache and creak
although I know I’m not unique.
Arthritis is a malady
which will respond quite readily.
To a good dose of warm sunlight
A month or two would put me right.
8-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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File Clerks Lament.
File clerk’s lament.
I dreamt a dream of pure delight.
Then woke up to reality
I know it was a fantasy.
It satisfied my appetite
for beauty which I rarely see.
Confined to grimy city streets.
My restless spirit was quite free
to travel where it wants to be.
My mind is capable of feats.
Which are denied to my body.
I visit worlds where none compete
and all are treated equally.
Unlike this weary world of woe
that’s all I am allowed to know.
Saturday,21 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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In The Shade Of The Green Wood
In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.
In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.
In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
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She Is fir MY Lady Irene
My lady strolls to take the air.
The flowers bow as she goes by,
because they know they can’t compare
with my lady, so they don’t try.
The song birds sing my lady’s praise,
sweet music to my lady’s taste.
Here as she walks the woodland ways
They flock to sing to her; in haste
Where e’re she walks a cool breeze blows
plays with the glory of her hair.
It is as if all nature knows
my lady’s more than passing fair
She walks in beauty naturally.
she is as she was meant to be.
01/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Moonlight Sestina
While reading Li Po, I fall
Asleep, and dream of the moon
My body lies on white
Cool sheets, flooded in a pool
Of moonlight. Lost in a dream
I lie in light, floating.
Like a full moon floating
On waves, I feel the fall
And rise, the tide of these dream
Currents. Closer, the moon
Approaches to my pool
Of flesh, shining me white.
From the glare of waxing white,
Gauze curtains – breeze floating -
Shield this rippling pool,
Become a waterfall,
And break the mirror moon-
Light through wet prisms, I dream.
Is this Shechinah? my dream
Self asks. At once the cold white
Chills me to ice. The moon
Swells until it's a floating
City, waiting to fall -
Atlantis – in the pool.
I yearn to be that pool
Skin, transparent as dream.
Instead I fear the moon fall:
I cannot part the white
Sea of thighs, Still floating
Whole, I cry to the moon:
“I am not ready, Moon”
Silence shimmers my pool,
But brightness fades, Floating
Away. Then from the dream
I emerge, weeping white
Tears that shine like star-fall.
Li Po's moon plunge sank dream
Deep. Whirlpool of lunar white
Drowns us; floating, we fall.
poem by Lillian Susan Thomas
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Oh Say. Can you see? for Friend Thad
Oh say can you see
At night, when I should be sleeping.
From my window slyly peeping
I can see the fairies dance.
I’m not afraid to take a chance
that the fairies might see me.
Because I know they are friendly.
They have no reason to fear me.
They do not mind that I can see.
Why should they mind they know quite well
there is nobody I can tell
Who would believe that I had seen
the fairies dancing on the green.
I know that grownups cannot see
what children see so easily
Though adults do not seem to mind
they do not know that they are blind.
Their childish innocence once lost
can’t be replaced at any cost.
So they dismiss as fantasy
the fairies they no longer see.
But in their blindness they insist
that fairy folk do not exist
All children in their wisdom know.
Grown ups are wrong it isn’t so.
Most adults are convinced they’re right
but some few have retained their sight.
They see the world as children see,
Accepting as reality.
the evidence of their own eyes
and you will too if you are wise.
11/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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