Power of now




Subterranean tunnels

in my mind


I glide dream



greeting faces

left behind.


Long gone lovers



horses graze at gates,

I used to open:


pathways take

me deep to


powerless childhood,

I strain to breathe


fight battles that

I’ve never won:


until I wake to this,

crocus blooming


another spring

soft breeze promise




& new beginning.







Wind whips water

Hockney blue


white crests

surfers ride


sea horse:


sand tumbles

from beneath


& coral

throws itself


against my feet.


Wind fans

the heat


body brown

lithe follows




Isle like

a tea cup


in its saucer

of the sea


asks me to linger

under Tamarind tree


sleep in this cradle





Everywhere I go

the women form


a cradle………


holding hands

across this earth


mothers, sisters,

aunts & daughters


joined in fragile



to bind us.


All the places

that I’ve been


it’s the women

I remember most


looking out

for me


nursing sickness

healing wounds


like the earth herself

mother to us all


enthroned in

solitary blue


like some

omnipresent jewel


spinning in wonder.

Beach song



Wind ruffles water

ripples on my skin


like new silk


undulating current

ullalah carries me


in ocean’s womb.


Sun scorches body

burns to bone


fingers sift sand

fragments of time


shattered coral

glides through.


Eye narrows

to catch flying


fish flash silver:


later the moonlight

casts crescent shadow


mad preacher screams

his song of hellfire


waking children

promising damnation


still this paradise

slip slides


its slice of heaven.




Scrap of sea

Listen here 


There is a small blue

scrap of sea…….


between here & there

between you and me


that sea swims into

ocean deep,


where dolphins leap

& whales sing their


full throat song.


Sometimes I hear you

in my sleep


whispering secrets

calling to me;


it’s early here

the apple tree has lost


its golden fruit, & the boys

walk to work


listening to reggae.


I sit alone

& drink my tea


thinking of me

with you


& you with me,

holding hands


across this blue blue

scrap of sea


each & every morning.




Underwater cover

where the fishes

swallow & glide


through pools of

warm subterranean



bubbles in the

permeated aqua

slide of moonlight


Venus like a beacon

shines above fishing

boat, midnight murmur:


Monkey in the trees

high tide drawing me

down water to water


dissolving refraction:

fish spy me with

taut suspicion


unblinking eye;

I float till sunset

another breath


another restless

night passes.


Weston St James





Shush shush

of wave climb


high tide

breaks tree line


sun casts a

silver stairway


to the sky.


I’m tied down

bound in earth’s




her lover’s touch:

rain on my skin


black night when

dreams haunt me.


Boats bob

& reform


nose to



straining on their

anchor chains.


Sunset lingers,

an hour, a minute,


another second



blue orb of earth

turns upon itself


& we all go

spinning onwards.



More than

We will be more

than ‘nothing’


you & I


Oh Lord of Fire:

you who built


a desert of ashes

a prison of your own



unsure of rescue;


& I fly always upward

held by foreign currents


loathe to touch terra.


Each word draws these

strings tighter


this net of desire

complex, deep


some might say



Tell me that we will

be more than ‘nothing’


that your soul sings

with my music


let my


skin hum

with new  life beat.



Rain in the night

stormy sea high tide


deep throb tug of water:


morning’s new horizon

too much talk, talk


suffocates the essence

numbs the deep dark throb


of it.


We walk in isolation

pretending to blur edges


talk of love tires me

words on a page


body’s anticipation

wanting to go down deep


to the nub of it.