Posted on by Glenn Mower

Meadow Sweet

How many times:

Have you walked around this city

With your prospects round your ankles

And your future feeling dizzy

And your donner’s in the gutter

And your life is incomplete

Cos you’re waiting for the weekend

And that taste of meadow sweet

CHORUS:

Take off your inhibitions

Feel the earth beneath your feet

Move your worries and your troubles

To the beat of Meadow Suite

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How many times:

Have you ignored your lover

Filled the void with Lidl wine

And the gazes from another

Find you’re swiping to the right

You wanna step into the heat

and in the passion of this night

Really feel her meadow sweet.

Potential song lyrics for a new band called ABM’s Meadow Suite

Posted on by Glenn Mower

Hope

Luminous driftings

Satin and gold

Sweet taste the waters

For wellness of Soul

Ripening blossoms

For fullness to form

Futures engorging

Autumnal rich sun.

Glancing romances

Daydream to be hold

Gyrational  dancing

Through young blood and old

Breezing belief

With lashes closed tight

She’s pregnant

And verdant

And flutters for flight.

Posted on by Glenn Mower

Light

Soft rays breeze silver for waxing green leaves

Red berry hands beauty to stem strangled weeds

Crows hack out the skyline

Slime chewed rooting succumbs to their fate

Wood pigeon soothes hedgerows of dense

Sparrow space

Tall grass bows their seed heads

While nestling docks bring

Damp balm to the woodlouse

And the nettles sharp sting.

Posted on by Glenn Mower

Intoning

Intoning the bells of my brethren

Gasping within their air

I cling to this sofa as

Limbs and fire storms roam

through  districts of carnage

That they once called home.

I pray that in this moment

They may see through my eyes

That they may be opened, relieved

Re moved by the beauty outside my door

Re-joined and re-made

Within this same planet

This same moment

To taste again the nectar of

Bees suckling yellows, oranges and

Yes even these blood red poppies

Shaded and shaved

Beneath the olive tree’s

Translucent bark.

Posted on by Glenn Mower

Reminiscing with mother

Course, she says

you might have never been born.

Your little nana worked hard,

at her three floor, full bed and board

guest-house.






I slept under tables, 





sorted place settings before school





until 1955 and these Burmese boys 





arrived in Weston-Super-Mare





started using our kitchen, 





as small as it was, as small as I was.





And we loved their spices





and off-peak curry.










RAF Locking, where those 





posh slim pilots





spent daytimes learning





some state of the art radio thing





and there was this one, Tin-tun, 





who took a shine to me and me to him










How I remember that summer,





me with my mother, Tin-Tun and Thanian 





on a short London weekend 





me at thirteen and he twenty-three 





and we all seemingly off to Burma.










All was set, we were going for good





until mum couldn’t get hold of 





her husband, out there in Cardiff  





gambling and unreachable again. 





No contact means no joint permission 





so their High Commission broke my heart.





Forlorn, I was unsure if my life could go on, 





so, you see my dear





 in more ways than one





you and your siblings





 just might never have been born.










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