So close. So far away.
So tempting, I say.
For one stormy second.
Two lives, intertwined.
But then doubts, cautious thoughts.
The moral battles, we fought.
And now forget. But still remember.
The fun we had in December!
If there were Gods to worship I might think
that here was one of their last sanctuaries.
What spirits from the long-forgotten years
crowd, in the shadows far above our heads,
watching our faces in the candle light?
What do you see, oh you who once were men?
The unchang‘d suffering of the human heart,
The coy display of woman‘s vanity,
The hurried fervour of faint piety,
And sometimes in an isolated face
the calm transfiguration of a soul,
lifted above all trivialities
to rest a moment in eternity?
Softly the voices mount to the dim roof
like bird-notes when the breathless forest waits
for the soft-footed coming of the dusk.
And, spirits, do you feel again the spell
of centuries of music echoing here?
Then might I say you worshipped -
For were there Gods to worship I must think
They would be here.
In this place, of heart-pounding frenzy
where love is lost and found so easy
Friends are won and battles fought
with opposed ideas and obsessive talk
Where words, sometimes sharp and painful
mean so much, and yet so little
But come all at once and at the wrong time
Splinters of truth in wise-crack lines
Of false pretences and cracking facades
Keeping up appearances and spinning yarns
Polite conversation and wishful thinking
Quick rejections and broken hearts sinking
Here we are and here we‘ll stay
Love it, hate it, both at once
And yet the sunrise, clear and bright
Makes it all seem to me, in irony, worthwhile.
Hazy-blue skyline on a burning summer day
Buildings standing starkly. All the dreams have gone away
Nothing but the church bell, bringing in the lazy noon
Everything is waiting on the coming of the moon.
This isn‘t any old place you‘d find along the way
This is a backdrop. A stimulus for thoughts to have their say
First admire the beauty of the multi-shaded sky
Then the mighty sun and its great unblinking eye
Next the sparkle on the water, splashing to the ground
Now the leafy dappled shade, slowly moving round
First impressions : uninspiring for the idle passerby
Look again my friend, you‘ll see, there‘s more than meets the eye
Like searching for a lonely face, hiding in the clouds
Like watching distant sailing ships emerge from misty shrouds
Finding out the truth, when the world is full of lies
A moment like when sunshine penetrates the frozen skies
Here comes a rush of thoughts, arriving thick and fast
Looking to the future, building on the past
Oblivious now to the surroundings, nothing else is real
Focus completely on what the mind and body feel
There‘s some kind of strange parallel with life being drawn
Bathing thoughts in clarity, like the freshness felt at dawn
Now the sky‘s the future, sometimes cloudy, sometimes starred
Everywhere there is freedom yet so many doors are barred
Here the reality swims into view. Sun still beating strong
Nothing is different. Yet all has changed. Time is ticking on
Where there was fog, now there is vision. Thoughts neatly filed
Where there was chaos, now there is order. Feelings reconciled.
Thinking alone has the power to do that.
Change the world. Overnight.
Think and think good thoughts.
The music was low. The lights were dim
I called to the waiter. He came right away
I said “Look, I worry about trying your curry.
Will this dish be at all hot, would you say?”
“Let me be your advisor,” said the waiter to me
Putting his dark head to one side
“Curries are eaten to give you the tingles
and to fire up that warmth inside.”
“It’s about filling your mouth with burning red coals
And making use of the finest spice blends,
To ensure that today you get maximum taste
but tomorrow the best fun at both ends.”
“Sir, the dish that you‘ve chosen : it’s very nice
and not really painful as such.
But be warned, my friend, for tomorrow you’ll find,
your bottom will hurt very much.”
They said I’d be working with elephants
“They’re only babies and terribly cute”
If they knew what I found when I first arrived
They’d probably be forced to refute
Because elephants are bloody massive
Regardless of how young they are
And getting into their enclosure at first
It was clear that I’d just gone too far
The elephants eyed me up and down
And one gave a deep throaty roar
Then it came at me with its nostrils flared
And my stomach sank to the floor
I was wearing these bright white trousers you see
which I’d brought to go out on the town
It was clear that by the end of my first day here
These pants would be coloured-in brown
Well after my first disaster
I resigned myself to lesser tasks
Than confronting great big elephants
On their own patches of grass
When they told me I’d be looking after
the babies and their huge mothers too
I thought I’d be training them to cope in the wild
Not given mucking-out duties to do
But as it turns out that’s just what I did -
Spending hours knee deep in their dung
And I learnt that shovelling, sweeping and cleaning
was actually a lot more fun
So I threw out my supposedly clean white trousers
And my silly Western vanity too
And I put on a pair of the dirtiest shorts I could find
And got used to walking round in poo
They say there is an old wive’s tale
That elephants are terribly wise
Well remember this, young Vicky:
Your Sri Lankan experience never dies
I sit in the chairlift. The slope falls away
I’m sure there is something amiss
Only two days instruction and skis that don‘t fit
Are they sure that I‘m ready for this?
The chair hits halfway : there‘s no turning back
But my sturdy knees have gone weak
In all the excitement I forget to get off
And now I‘m stood alone at the peak.
Taking the challenge, I push myself off
The bottom drops out of my world
I feel like I‘ve left my stomach behind
And this tale can only unfold
I can‘t see a thing through the snow on my goggles
And the speed‘s really picking up now
I try to think about finding the brakes
But it‘s more than my brain will allow
All I can hear are those magic words:
“Beginners, never ski from the top.
Pull in your knees and push out your toes.
Tomorrow we‘ll learn how to stop.”
So with trees shooting past me like bullets
And the skis getting straighter and straighter
The fence at the bottom is coming so fast
And with it my hope growing fainter.
And then when I thought it was all but over
A drift seems to come my way
I‘d like to think that I steered towards it
But, well, it wasn‘t my lucky day
Now buried alive in six foot of snow
The best thing is knowing I‘ve stopped
I can categorically say that my first attempt
will be neatly described as a flop
As I stand up and dig the snow from my ears
I can feel myself turning bright red
There are hundreds of people clapping for me
I think bollocks‘ is the word to be said
I‘ve long been a believer in justice
And perhaps I‘ve had my reward
It‘s the broken skis and the torn salopettes
That I shouldn’t have to afford
So it‘s back to the novice slopes for me
I’m not really up to the pace
I went there just for some fun in the snow
But came back with egg-on-my-face
There’s only so much I can take in a day
Not that I do things by halves
But skiing has lost its attraction for me
And next time? I‘ll try the Algarve . . ..
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