PURE IN SPIRIT

PURE IN SPIRIT

I’m in love,

In love,

A love as pure as

A baby’s first thought.

A love so gentle

As a butterfly caught,

I’m in love.

My spirit feels

Refreshed,

By the first April rain.

My spirit feels

Warmed,

By the winds

From African plains,

I’m in love.

Our first embrace,

We wept,

Our kiss,

A treasure kept.

Her smile

Melts my heart,

Her eyes,

Keen as Diana’s dart,

I’m in love.

A true love,

A spirit so pure,

My true love

My loneliness cure.

Phil Hall  April 2013

BUNGSAMRAN

BUNGSAMRAN

There’s a lake in Thailand,

On the outskirts of Bangkok,

It had some huge fish in it

And my arms are still in shock.

We were met at our hotel

By Damian and the wonderfully named Boomsong,

They were our guides for the day,

Nothing could go wrong.

They set up all the tackle,

 They made up all the bait,

With the massive splashes in the water,

I couldn’t bloody wait.

We caught giant Mekong catfish,

The size of which I’m proud.

To celebrate, the beer flowed

And we got pretty loud.

The beer was called ‘Leo’

Nice and chilled and in easy reach.

To our guides amazement,

We drank eight litres each!

We laughed at the others

Who weren’t catching many fish,

Then along came the eatables,

Thai chilli pork and a spicy rice dish.

We fished in the blistering heat,

The humidity was boiling our head.

Our arms were aching so much,

And our faces turning red.

We got back to the hotel,

And went straight for a massage.

The Thai girl that looked after me was ok

But, my brother had one who was ugly, old and large.

Richard and I will return one day,

Bungsamran is just so good.

We gave Boomsong a big tip, and said we loved him

I don’t think he understood.

 (Archoi, Me, Boomsong and Damian)

Phil Hall  April  2013

PENDRAGON

PENDRAGON

I talk with the dead,

I’m poet and Druid of Merlin.

A writer of songs

Of warriors strong,

All just playthings of Gods,

My name is Taliesin.

It is a night for lovers,

The full moon crackles on the deep.

My eyes rest easy

On the caress of the surf,

And the Pendragon of Britain

His soul, in words I keep.

A dragon shaped comet

Arrowed through the stars and burning bright,

After the battle of Mynyw,

Where King Pasgen

 Lay slain,

Uther became Pendragon that night.

The high King summoned Merlin

After battling Gorlois at Caer Lundein.

He required a spell,

To conceal him well,

In Din Tagell he loved Ygerna,

And he wanted Gorlois wife, as his Queen.

As Gorlois died under Merlins spell,

A soul crossed the Bridge of Swords.

Uther and Ygerna,

Betrothed at the stones

Her heavy with child,

Uther did battle with the Saxon hordes.

I Taliesin, am the creator of truth

And teller of the world’s greatest story.

My words span eons of time,

Millennia of rhyme,

The death of Uther and the New King,

 Who gave Britain glory.

Uthers child was Arthur,

Under Merlin he gained wisdom.

He formed his warrior ring,

Won many battles,

Of which the bards still sing,

He brought peace to Dumnonia, his Kingdom.

To you in the new and future lands,

I’ve given you the story of Pendragon.

I Taliesin

My Lord Merlin,

Can walk again

In the oak groves of our beloved Ynys Mon.

Phil Hall  April  2013

MRS MANSELL

MRS MANSELL

I knew a little old Lady once,

She walked slowly, over her frame bent.

A quiet and timid soul,

And very insignificant.

I never saw any family

Nobody ever passed by,

The postman and the milkman, yes

But they didn’t stop to say ‘hi’.

She had to go to hospital once,

And left a neighbour with her key,

That was for him to feed the cat,

But, his friend went and stole her TV.

That was when her cat went missing,

He must have frightened it away,

She shook its food at the door every night,

Though it’s been gone for many a day.

She watched the world from her window,

Peering through the long hanging nets.

She occasionally scattered bread for the birds,

And talked to them, like they were her pets.

She’d put on her best coat on a Sunday

And walked down the long hill to attend mass.

She should have waited to catch the bus,

But she’d forgotten where she’d put her free pass.

Then one day Mrs Mansell disappeared,

This old lady, her life was no more.

Even more sad than nobody caring about her,

Was the sight of her cat sat at the front door.

There are so many Mrs Mansells in our world,

In every street there’s one who we know.

Wouldn’t it be nice just to ask how they are?

I’m sure they’d love to hear your “Hello”

Phil Hall  April 2013

GOLDEN EAGLE

GOLDEN EAGLE

(Some readers were deterred by the use of Scottish Gaelic in the first run so I've turned the poem on its head)

The Ruler of Scottish Skies

 Oh, Golden Eagle,

King of the Scottish mountain,

Soar above the slaughter.

To rule over the glen,

Waterfall and heather,

With black grouse lain deep within,

To taste your talons again.

EIN BUIDHE

Cuilfianoch ein buidhe,

Fiath as te Albannach beinn,

Teach os cionn te ar oillteil.

Am riaghailt abhos tel glean,

Cadan-Uisge is fraoch beir,

Le coileach dubh suil am broinn,

Am blais te gioray spear a- riltiest.

***

Phil Hall April 2013

NEIGHBOURS

NEIGHBOURS

My neighbour is a six foot lesbian,

Her husband only eats pork pie,

Their children dress in clowns costumes

And sing out loud to the sky.

The postman, he is a tough man,

He bites my neighbour’s Alsatian dog.

He also wears big, dark sunglasses

Even when there’s a ‘pea souper’ type fog.

The butcher is a vegetarian,

His shop doesn’t sell any meat,

So, if you want a nice Sunday roast,

It’ll have to be carrot or beet.

The window cleaner suffers vertigo,

He never goes up his ladder.

He cries when he only gets half pay,

I’ve never seen anything sadder.

The local policeman is terribly lazy,

His patrol car’s a comfortable bed.

His alarm clock acts as a siren,

And his duvet flashes blue and then red.

I live on a road full of strange people,

There are characters all over the place.

Just be careful if you ever walk down here,

You might get a custard pie in the face.

There isn’t a moral to this story,

There is no need to say anymore.

But, don’t be too hasty to move house,

You might end up with a ‘nutter’ next door.

Phil Hall  April 2013

GETTING OLDER

GETTING OLDER

It’s easy to dislike things

As I get older,

Summers getting hotter

And winters becoming colder.

I can’t stand those bright drinks

Served in pubs so loud,

I've just mastered Facebook

And along comes I cloud.

When I’m on a flight,

I feel like going wild.

Why do I always sit

In front of an annoying child?

Kicking on your seat back,

His moaning and crying gets me mad.

I get really bloody angry

And I want to punch his Dad.

When I’m out driving

You've the truly ridiculous sight,

Some young fool with fog lights,

Glaring on a clear night.

The glamorous TV weather girls

Who give out needless advice .

“It’s going to be hot, use sun cream,

If you’re going somewhere nice”

To “It’s very cold outside,

So please wrap up warm”

Or, “it’s raining so take a brolly”

Surely, that’s the norm.

I know it’s because I’m getting older,

Why my patience is wearing thin.

There’s so much to make me grumpy,

Like reality TV or any ‘Boy Bands’ awful din.

 I hate those terrible commercial breaks

With some sycophantic twat,

Waxing lyrical about what you can claim,

If you trip at work, or something stupid like that.

Everyone wants something for nothing,

Like pretending to get whiplash,

When they were only travelling at five miles per hour,

These bastards will do anything for cash.

Well that’s it for now,

I think I've ranted on for too long,

I could go on for ages at what drives me mad,

But my language would be far too strong.

(For the moderators anyway)

Phil Hall  April 2013

FREYA

FREYA

(The goddess of love)

I lay next to you in spirit,

Our souls were embraced through the night.

Our lips touched, so very gently,

Your body shook in sheer delight.

We whispered words of love to each other,

From across the deep void millennia away.

I arose with my body feeling satisfied,

My Goddess gave me new life for today.

My Freya, how I yearn for the darkness

So, we can lie on our heavenly bed.

The Goddess and her warrior lover,

With our love written in the stars it is said;

“Freya, will be loved by a mere mortal,

The Gods grant her this sacred unity,

To a fair warrior from far off Lloegyr,

An everlasting bond of both worlds it will be”

Phil Hall  April  2013

THE MIRROR

THE MIRROR

Who is that stood in the mirror?

That ugly thing can’t be me.

Surely I don’t look like that anymore,

Please God, it cannot be.

I’m young, I’m fit and I’m healthy,

This is a terrible mistake.

I’m not grey, crippled and I’m certainly not old,

This monster in the mirror’s a fake.

Look closely, my eyes are jaded,

My forehead wears a permanent frown.

Yet, I walk tall and upstanding,

Not with my shoulders drooping down.

That person in the mirror’s an imposter,

Like all men I’m still in my prime.

I don’t believe I’ll ever act my age,

Even though in truth, I’m in rapid decline.

Phil Hall April  2013

FANCY FOOD

FANCY FOOD

Spring lamb,

Runner beans

And quick cook rice,

They’re all very athletic and trim.

Am I fast enough or will I fall?

Dressed crab,

Jacket potato

And ‘pigs in blankets’,

They wear their flavours so well.

Am I smart enough to call?

Battered cod,

Wild mushrooms

And pickled onions,

They are the thugs of the kitchen.

Am I in a bar room brawl?

Potted shrimp,

Jugged hare

And chicken in a basket.

They are so difficult to get at,

Am I going to eat at all?

Phil Hall  April 2013

MERLIN'S STONE

MERLIN’S STONE

I met my love at Merlin’s stone,

On a moon shot and silvery night.

The stones, granite ghosts in sentry there,

A guard of honour, to the Goddess of light.

She lay atop Merlin’s stone,

Her flowing gown spun from fairy wing silk.

With eyes like emeralds seducing me,

And skin soft as unicorn milk.

My armour shone bright on Merlin’s stone,

By my side a sword of finest honed steel.

My helmet with plume and dragon finials

I removed, as to my Goddess, I would kneel.  

With languid hand I was beckoned to rise,

To Merlin’s stone I drew near,

Her full lips whispered with perfumed breath,

And she said her name was Freya.

A warrior I be, of Lion heart

But that night I was a youth in love.

A mere mortal from the land of Midgard,

And a plaything of a Goddess from above.

We held hands sat on Merlin’s stone,

Her mystical eyes were full of tears.

“I want to be loved by a mortal man”

She said haltingly, as I held her near.

Although I feared the Gods of Asgard,

We loved with a passion so deep.

I held Freya long into the star filled night,

Until Spent I was ushered to sleep.

I awoke with a start, as a bright light

Bathed the stones in a radiant glow,

And Freya, naked under her gossamer gown

 Put her finger to her lips “Odin will never know”

I visit Merlin’s stone often,

And I know my Freya can hear,

She may be afar in distant Asgard

But, our love we’ll both hold so dear.

To the Goddess of Light and Love

My Freya

Who came to me from the Gods.

Phil Hall  April 2013

A CHILD'S DREAM

A CHILD'S DREAM

Close your eyes my little one,

There’s a wonderful place on the other side,

It’s thrilling and really exciting,

Just like a fairground ride.

Where the noisiest people,

Don’t make any sound,

And trees when they grow

Do so, upside down in the ground.

Children drive around in cars

And even fly airplanes,

There’s a heavenly scent of perfume,

Rising sweetly from the drains.

The graveyards are all empty,

Sickness and hospitals banned,

Nobody dies, nobody is ill

In this magical land.

There are rainbows at night,

You can read your book under the stars.

Even, pack a suitcase with sweets

And take a holiday on Mars.

You can see dragons fly,

Ride on horses with long wings.

Wear a golden crown on your head

And wear sparkling diamond rings.

Dress your self in armour

Battle with a dinosaur,

Then dance with a princess in a palace,

Upon a marbled floor.

Close your eyes little one

Enjoy your sweetest dream

Because in real life, some people are evil,

And they’re not quite what they seem.

Phil Hall  April 2013