My Poem “Walk On Water”

Today, pretty much everybody
here in the UK, is literally
having to “walk on water”…
let’s just say that the weather
could be a lot better than it is
and if you are “caught short”,
and you are not at least
carrying an umbrella,
then it goes without saying
that you are going to have to
either stay undercover
for as long as you can,
or, if you do need to go somewhere
in particular, you may have to
go “hell for leather” and run
as fast as you can –
as if you were some kind of
soaking-wet cheetah.

We here in the UK could talk adnorsism
about our eccentric and ever-changing
weather – in fact it is favourite
subject of small-talk…
we here in the UK can see
both the beauty of a summer’s day
as well as, on occasion, the water-droplets of a rain storm –
however, most stiff-upper-lip British
people would much rather observe
rain falling while looking out of the window,
perhaps from the comfort of their own homes,
instead of having to walk out of their front-door
and immediately have to find their footing,
while trying to keep calm, carry on,
and simultaneously having to
follow the example of the Messiah
and walk on water.

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My Poem ‘The Umbrella’

The greatest escape on a rainy day,
the best cover to tie you over
from the lightning and the thunder;
whenever, wherever, you are
something akin to the sun of a Summer’s day;
a perfect oasis and the most serene place
of peace of mind and spirit;
that which when you hear it playing
is literally music to your ears,
that is personal –
but can also be shared in a different way
with people that you are in constant contact with,
that both stimulates all kinds of emotions and tears –
the thing that is so intrinsic to you
it is almost a part of your soul;
the coat of protection
that helps you brave the winter’s cold.

Like the roots of a tree,
like the canopy of a forest,
like the ground beneath all of our feet,
like the constituents of a bird’s nest,
we all have things above us, below us,
and around us, that ground us,
and that inspire us and amaze us
over and over, and without them
we would not be who we want to be,
and we would not be blessed with life’s
invisible, natural, but always present, poetry.

When the rain stops falling,
when the clouds part
and the sun shines again,
when life emerges from where it has been hiding,
as the writers continue to drive
the swirls and the course
of the ink of their pens,
when the Earth settles
and a brand new set of ripple effects
echo throughout the world,
like raindrops falling on the water of a pond,
when new experiences and new thoughts
accentuate and strengthen already deep-seated bonds,
when you need a shelter to wait for a break in the weather…
take out, unveil, open again,
that which has always served to be your refuge
and your constant umbrella.