Background

I had always thought

British garden birds

rather ordinary,

boring and brown

and all looking the same

more or less.

But suddenly this year

they seem to have taken on

a splash of colour,

as if they have

dipped and swooped

in and out

of an artist’s pallet.

Even the red chin

of the swallow

seems brighter;

the green wagtails

greener; and the

goldfinches scramble to

monopolise the view

from every window.

I had always allowed

the birds to occupy

the background,

and perhaps only now

that I yearn

some colour,

do I notice

the rainbow in them.

John H Davies

7th May 2011 

Touché

Have you ever been touched?

An unseen foot under the table -

the touch of the untouchable.

Or an innocent touch, a soft touch

conveying more than words

or a glance. Do you touch

upon a subject without concern

that you might be out-of-touch?

Would you have touched the border

of the garment, a touch of virtue

and desperation, in the same

touching moment? Is it only

the tangible that we trust, or repel -

the touch of the leper? Are you

the type to stay in touch, or wait

for the touch on the shoulder?

Do you still favour touch-typing

or one-touch technology; prefer

being in touch with your emotions

or touching the void? And 

whether you’re touched up

or touched in the head -

take a leaf out of an old book

and don’t forget to ask yourself:

‘Who touched me?’

John H Davies

May 6th 2011

Rescue

You can never find a policeman

when you need one –

I considered the irony of these words

as I relayed instructions from a man

in the office of the crane hire company

to the Bobby below, who in turn fiddled

with the buttons on the machine

which eventually lowered us safely

to the ground, and seemed bemused

and rather diffident when I shook his hand.

John H Davies

5th May 2011

Stranded

We're 40 feet up in the cage
of a hydraulic lift that has just
stopped working and we've no idea
how we're going to get down or
more importantly how I'll get
today's poem on the blog
hang on, here comes a policeman...

John H Davies

4th May 2011 

Osama

I know I shouldn’t be glad that

someone’s dead, but I am glad

they got him at last. I’m glad

for the families of his countless victims

and I’m glad, because when I was a boy

he accused me of something I didn’t do

to cover up his own shortcomings,

and he pushed me down a stairwell

and trampled on me mercilessly

because I was smaller than him.

So I joined the army and learnt

how to take care of myself, rather hoping

that one day I might bump into him

and even up the score, but I guess

I won’t have to bother now.

John H Davies

3rd May 2011 

Fresh Start

She took her clothes and shoes

and potted plants,

the sofa bed

and the ashes of her dead dog,

some kitchen utensils

and a large smile.

And replacing his tape measure

on the desk

in the office,

she locked the front door

for the last time

and stepped out

into the sunshine.

John H Davies

2nd May 2011 

Cure

When I’m down

she dumps our puppy

in my lap knowing

I won’t be able to resist.

What simpler therapy

in all the world,

than the craving

of the innocents?

John H Davies

1st May 2011