Recollections for friend T'J Becker
The butter lamps cast a soft glow.
As chanting monks in unison
their voices blending come and go
to raise their morning orison.
And thus begins another day
that’s filled with studying and prayer
As these devotees seek the way
The motive which has brought them there.
Although their faith I do not share.
I can share their serenity
Which permeates the very air.
A scene which still entrances me
I can recall it vividly
from memory so easily.
16-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Esmerald for J.T.Earley.
She danced as though she was possessed.
Perhaps she was I do not know.
Her heels beat out a staccato.
I have to say she was the best
exponent of the flamenco
that I have seen or hope to see.
She became part of the flow
went with the music totally.
Although it was so long ago.
I still recall it vividly.
A memory I won’t let go.
until the day they bury me.
Still in my minds eye I can see
the gypsy dancing wantonly.
2-May-0
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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A Poor Attempt
The water mill beside the stream, highlighted by a stray moonbeam.
Which adds an abstract quality, a touch of surreality.
To the scene which I can see and makes it extraordinary
The stream is deep and strong but slow and turns the paddles from below.
The droplets falling from the wheel to any poets eyes appeal
Reflecting light prismatically in rainbow colours flying free.
They join the moon light in a dance of ever changing radiance
Sadly dark clouds obscure the moon; the show is ended all too soon.
My soul is soothed and satisfied, although the dark clouds came to hide
the beauty which I saw displayed.The memories will never fade.
I can recall them vividly and in my minds eye I still see
the wondrous scene I saw tonight. An interplay of dark and light.
I try my best to share with you the beauty that I had in view.
Though I’m afraid I lack the skill despite the fact I have the will.
I am quite sure you’ll understand, I’m just a man I can’t command
the words I write to show to you, the fleeting beauty that I knew..
22-Nov-08
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Tried and Tested
My pencil holds a multitude
of varied possiblities.
Which I accept with gratitude
I grasp the opportunities
To write my thoughts in black and white
on any subject that I choose.
Expressing sorrow or delight
enabling me to share my views
With other poets on the net.
Who also share their thoughts with me
although in fact we have not met.
The common bond is poetry.
I am old fashioned proud to use
The simplest of technology.
A pencil is the tool I choose
it helps my thoughts flow easily.
I don’t compose on my P.C.
Though I suppose I should learn to.
I’d rather scribble happily
in pencil as I usually do.
24/06/2009
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Saving grace for M'ladyAnn Beard
Moonlight on the water glowing gently. As the tide out flowing
leaves silver traces on the sand. I think that now I understand,
the feeling of serenity. Which quickly flooded over me.
From being lonely and depressed I felt as though I had been blessed.
Bathed in the Goddess’ radiance I was given a second chance.
To be who I was meant to be, that peaceful night beside the sea.
I can recall it vividly. It was a peak experience
I still hold her in reverence.Although I have no evidence.
to prove to you my words are true do not feel that I need to.
Unless touched by the Goddess’ hand you simply would not understand
So I began my life anew because the Goddess bid me to.
The goddess cares for her children, she gave me confidence again.
I know that I can make the grade I face the future unafraid.
19-Dec-08
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Your Place
I awaken-- in the soft darkness.
Alone-- but yet not lonely,
Your place --beside me in our bed
Is filled-- with memories of you
Only-- you of all women could
With--your constancy leave such sweet
Memories-- that comfort me still.
13-Dec-08
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Writers Block-Poppycock
I think that there will never be
A lack of wonders we can see.
For those of us prepared to look
in mother natures own scrap book.
We have the time to stand and stare
at beauty we find everywhere.
A flower where it should not be
inspires us to write poetry.
We poets are a special breed
and poetry fulfils our need.
To share the beauty we can see.
We choose our language carefully.
Creating images to share
with anybody anywhere.
Monday,26 July 2010
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Incapability
The sunset’s indescribable
but being me I have to try
to see if I am capable.
Although I see no reason why.
I think this time I might succeed.
I’ve tried so many times before
to explain how the colours bleed
into shades I have no name for.
I would love to share my view
but lack the vocabulary.
I cannot describe to you
the transient beauty that I see.
No matter how hard I may try
it’s an impossibility.
18/05/2009
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Anticipation.
Anticipation.
I must accept that you have gone
one step ahead you have moved on.
I’m certain we will meet again
some otherwhere, some otherwhen.
We had no secrets you and I.
We always knew that one would die
and leave the other one behind.
That you went first I do not mind.
I could not bear to think of you.
Suffering the way I do.
Although I know I must wait
I know I can anticipate.
The joy we’ll share when we next meet.
Together once again: Complete.
Friday,31 December 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Faded photograph
A snapshot taken years ago.
Somewhat lacking clarity.
Of some young guys I used to know
In fact the skinny one is me.
The other two I can recall,
their faces well but not their names
Although I try nothing at all.
My memory is playing games
I wonder where they are today
I wonder if they remember me
The passing years erode away
your memories ability.
To regain any access to
some things you know that you once knew
Monday,13 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Morning Hymn
Gladly do I greet the dawn
a new day born for me to see.
The dawn chorus fills my ears.
Banishes all fears: I’m free
to raise my hymn of praise.
To the suns rays. I ought to
in gratitude for the sight
of morning light. So I do.
Awdl gwnedd form
07/11/2009
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Alimony Apart
Sometimes love dies.No one’s to blame
but it is painful just the same.
To lose the love that once you knew
but there is little you can do
When you mature at different rates.
One pressing on one hesitates,
the rift develops so slowly.
It takes a while before you see.
The love you shared has truly gone
and you are ready to move on.
The time has come for you to part
Which you accept with heavy heart.
Some couples find that when love ends
it’s possible to part as friends
but only if they both agree
to share their assets equally.
Most couples don’t they cannot see
there’s no need for acrimony.
They can’t regain what they have lost.
Its only fair they share the cost.
25-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Water colour for M'lady Yuri
The setting sun imparts a glow
upon the surface of the lake.
In shades of red which come and go.
Some are translucent, some opaque.
From palest pink to deepest red
and every shade that lies between.
They last until the light has fled
and darkness falls to rule the scene.
I sit and watch in wonderment
the sun descend beneath the sea
To me it is quite evident
that all is as it ought to be.
The moon will rise to rule the night
and paint the waters silver white.
19-May-08
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Don't ask me
Sometimes I see though partially.
Like images through frosted glass.
Beyond control, sporadically
A foretaste of what is to come.
Sometimes reflections from the past.
Abilities which are not welcome.
A family trait inherited
an extra sensitivity
At times we see the way ahead.
But what we see we do not say.
Because we know we cannot change
future events in any way.
This is the cross we have to bear
the second sight can be a curse
to know but know we cannot share.
I would prefer that I was blind
Unable to see through the mists
.I feel that fate has been unkind.
To grant a talent I can’t use
It seems quite purposeless to me
If I had choice I would refuse.
I do not really want to see
what lies ahead for anyone.
What fate decrees will come to be.
I did not choose I was chosen
to inherit this ability
to see what lies beyond our ken.
My family is known to be
possessors of the second sight
but taught to use it sparingly.
I dare not share the things I see.
I can’t be sure I am correct
I will not share. So don’t ask me.
15/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Mutual respect for friend Chandra.
Does God exist or does he not.
We cannot prove it either way.
Though arguments wax strong and hot.
What does it matter anyway.
If you have faith and you believe
Perhaps that makes it true for you
If I lack faith and can’t perceive
things in the same way that you do.
That does not mean that you are right
nor does it mean that I am wrong.
Although our views are opposite
It’s possible to get along.
We can agree to disagree.
There’s no need for disharmony.
Sunday,24 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Deadly Serious
A thin and thready threnody
played by the winds on the phone wires.
An eerie haunting melody
regretting unfulfilled desires.
A lamentation which can steal
your joy in life and make you sad
Enhance the miseries you feel
If you are wise you stop your ears
refuse to give in to your fears.
If you do not you will go mad.
The lost souls carried on the wind
Are seeking victims constantly
to join their ghastly company.
To share in their unhappiness
and they can find them easily
In people who cannot express.
Their joy in life to anyone
but wallow in their misery.
and in the end are left alone.
A self fulfilling prophecy.
1-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Nostalgic mood for M lady Ernestine
No moon tonight, no stars in view.
The darkness rules triumphantly
There’s nothing left for us to do
but ignite the gas, create light.
The striking match, the hiss of gas
The mantle starts to glow blue white.
We let the after image pass
and we regain the power of sight.
The mantel mirror throws the light
that’s caught and held by polished brass
and china plates of blue and white
and by the china cabinets glass.
Familiar things come into view.
Although we see them every day.
By the soft glow we see anew
as though they’ve changed some subtle way.
The curtains which hold back the night
adopt somehow a richer hue.
Though worn and faded by sunlight.
By soft gaslight look almost new.
Progress insisted that we change
and they installed electricity.
The old familiar things look strange
The light falls simultaneously.
There’s no reflections to and fro
in the way there used to be.
I much preferred the softer glow
that I recall from memory.
I can’t go back although I would
given the opportunity.
Perhaps I’m in nostalgic mood
forgetting things conveniently.
The ever present smell of gas
and fumes that coated everything.
Obscured the twinkle of the brass.
which needed daily polishing.
I must admit reluctantly
though I adored the softer glow.
I’m used to electricity
outmoded fashions have to go.
14-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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I love my daughter: but
I know, I know the exact word
I use it very frequently.
Then suddenly, it’s quite absurd.
I cannot trust my memory.
I’ve always trusted it before
and it has never let me down.
But that’s is not true anymore
and forms a reason for my frown.
My daughter says it just might be
because I’m getting on a bit.
I cannot possibly agree.
I’m aghast at the cheek of it.
I’m not old just eighty three.
I do not doubt that I will be
the first one of my family
to reach my own centenary.
What does it matter I forget
some little things occasionally
I know what’s getting me upset
Her lack of sensitivity.
The word will come if I just wait
That is a racing certainty
But I do not appreciate
a recaltricant memory.
There must be something I can do,
to stimulate my memory.
I think I’ll take up something new
Some thing active probably.
I may be old but I’m still fit
to think and act competently
My daughter talks a load of bull
I won’t forgive her easily.
Thursday,12 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Hope overcomes experience.
I understand that love can die.
Without a cause apparently.
There is no point in asking why.
We must accept that agony
replaces erstwhile ecstasy
We used to share so long ago.
So we decide reluctantly
the time has come we must let go.
We can retain fond memories
or do our damndest to forget
though neither can be done with ease.
Because we are not ready yet.
No doubt we’ll fall in love again
undeterred by our past pain.
Thursday,27 May 2010
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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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Certainty for M lady Tsira
The fairy dust Jack Frost has cast
across the rooftops liberally.
Now twinkles in the orange glow
Recalling scenes from long ago.
Scenes from my childhood now long past
I still remember vividly.
The softer glow from the gas lights,
not orange but a greenish hue.
A thousand, thousand points of light
like tiny stars they were so bright.
I used to love the winter nights
and must confess that I still do.
I did not use to mind the cold
Then I was young now I grow old.
So I prefer to stay inside
and watch the frost forming outside.
Appreciate the beauty show
from where I’m dry and warm. I know.
that old age does not come alone
My aging joints reminding me.
To only go out if I must
Be wary of the fairy dust
and when I do to wrap up warm
Then I will come to no great harm.
Jack Frost will sprinkle fairy dust
long after I am dead and gone.
I must enjoy it while I may
it almost turns the night to day.
His is a promise I can trust
the sparkling frost will linger on.
28-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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