1. In the Eyes of a Child

This poem was inspired by a girl aged five at the time I wrote this. She is the eldest child of a friend of mine whose husband had just left her . I wrote this poem after I had known the family for a couple of months.

In the eyes of a child, the truth is blind.
Once taken from her, it can be hard to find.
She believes what she's told as she knows not what's outside.
This brave, brave girl needs somewhere to hide.

Do you know how she feels ? What's truth ? Who's lying ?
Can you tell by her eyes that inside she's crying ?
What game are we playing - King's Bishop takes pawn.
Can they really mean me ? Is this why I was born ?

What happened to love - who knows what it is ?
It's the arms round the shoulder - the steal of a kiss.
Am I going to like it, the games that you're playing ?
Why can't you listen to me ? Do you know what I'm saying ?

I'm going to live like everyone else
Be happy, be sad, fall over, cut my head.
I'll look at the stars, and the seas with their tides.
Look deep, you'll find love in the eyes of a child.

2. East of Woking

Whilst I was living in Winchester I had to commute to Chiswick (West London) by train for a period of eight months. I used to catch the early train (06:52) & there was a core group of commuters who used to catch the same train. This poem was inspired by an early January walk from my house to the Railway Station & the resulting journey...

The waking dawns abroad the time for journey's time to start.
You hope that deep inside your soul that love's still in your heart.
The waking morning town's alive with rustling leaves of green.
But walking in the depth of fear, the journey can't be seen.

The milkman and the jogger are all that's out of time
You wonder what the others will do, when they are cast aside.
The damp and shrouded blackness of a January morning.
Who knows what will happen when another day is dawning.

A collected handful of smiling souls are talking yet again.
They're there to greet the morning and onward in the train,
To where their waiting future lies upon the hour of woe.
I close my eyes to let the future and the time to go.

The clatter and the natter of a thousand jittered smiles,
Are fed upon by lifetime's spend out there amidst the miles.
The miles of time of which is spent a laughing and a joking.
I saw the dawn, I smiled inside, there, just East of Woking.

3. Gold

I wrote this poem about a couple of weeks after I had met my (now ex-) wife.

Through distant wind swept valleys
I stand before your soul
Not knowing what to say or do
I am prepared, so bold
You plan for future present
Instilled within, you talk
Of minds, and deeds and prayers and hopes,
To get them all, you walk
Upon the worshipped platform
Of rewarded dreams so old.
The hunter and the hunted
Who has, at last, found Gold.