Poems by


a poem by Rachel

And when I close my lids
and put that music on
I can almost smell the swaying leaves of the palm trees.
Can almost taste the sweet balmy warmness
of the sticky nights.
Can almost see the angry sunset
soothed and cooled by the velvet blue of the night sky.
And those days when the sun
rose, unsure and unsteady, like a newborn foal
rose up and pigmented the colourless dawn
with a fleshy pink
that spreads and diffuses
arising everything it touches
I watched the coffee steam meet the rays
the smoke from old fires mingle and glow in the light.
That is God’s hand reaching out to wake all to the day that he has given
the day that he holds out
for us to take and abuse and spoil
mar that delicate pink
with the grey smoke of our very efforts
but, just for a few minutes
to sit and watch
the only time you can look straight into the sun
to look
to be still,
and to stare God in the face.