the banks of the river

the banks of the river were here

before you and I

before the courtship and the romance

before the anger and the jealousy

before it became mother of nations

or place of solitude

before anything needed the shade

of the old oak

before blood was spilt

and wars were won

before we lay in the grass

among the dandelions

and the banks of the river will be here

after us

with not so much as a footprint

in the mud

Shades of Blue

Down the street is a crescent moon.

A purple dawn approaches.

The sirens wail in the distance

while the birds sing close by.

I lay down

to relax.

And the sheets turn damp

with our love.

Yet I'm still not sure,

If you're here,

ever have been

or ever will be.

Easter Sunday

Staring out at the Thames

flowing with Pale Ale

the sky dips to orange

And the birds

swoop, float and idle

on air

Unaware of the

financial difficulty

relationship drama

and the rock and roll

the rest of us deal with

everyday