Christmas Threatened- Bah Humbug ?

She reached for the plain bread to lay it out.

One slice each with beans off a far Foodbank.

The disappointed children eat without pleasure,

and look with eyes that show meagre years 

of Tory rule. 

====

The face of plenty stares at them from the news-

paper stand – jolly eyes like Santa with a twist 

that is more like Satan. The little ones go to 

bed and hunger for tomorrow to be school, 

free meal fed. 

====

Crumpled faces of adults who see their kids

starving are fury whipped as they hear the

politicians think Christmas will make it well

while each day destroys their little ones

health and hope.

======

Bold figures with blind eyes, and deaf ears

to the cry of the poor, talk of turkeys and

the poor cry for bread and this time there

will be no knitting because they cannot 

afford the wool.

Street Children

Shivering they silently stood outside,

ever and always outside of all that

is.   They waited until a voice kindled

the terror they remembered, and fowl

money passed hands dirtying the

innocence of a four year old child.

———

The others encouraged them to 

go in and accept that to survive

is to strive and yield any hope of

childhood. For life on the streets

can only be held together if they

share tortured pain, terror and

depraved adults paying pesetas 

to take evilly designed pleasure.

—–

The child struggles to walk, their

frozen face stained with tears

and eyes that have died rather

than see and a mind tightly shut

to recall of the violence that they

endured for a meal.  While close

——————–

by others sit round tables and eat

throwing spare food to the dogs,

not to kids that kindle evil outside,

sniffing glue and plying prostitution,

poisoning their streets and don’t

they richly deserve all they get?

——————–

Another place has opened and

there they offer a home for those

who want to come off the streets.

a sanctuary, wholesome and safe.

to save a child they struggle against 

pervading

attitudes,  

history, 

police but yet stay

to help children learn to be safe and

enjoy that wonderful gift of childhood.

Thank you to ToyBox.

House Martins in the Heights.

Swerving, circling, swiftly passing,

peeling off, synchronised flying;

feeling their freedom, it so thrills

my soul, sharply they turn and 

soar to great heights, where

spaces are clear, free and kind.

——

Swooping, skating over the grasses

gracing the top of Graig Fan Las

and Bwlch Y Ddwyallt. Rising to the

giddying heights of Cribyn and all

their joyous dance gliding around

giddily; creating magic and delight.

——

Sliding, slipping out of view they

arch their wings and silently grace

the sky, showing white, dark wings,

then creamy rump flying by and I

look with awe as they show us

a house is a home where the heart

——–

is. Maybe on mountain top or hilly

lows, sown under roofs and pipes 

that drain.Stuck fast to walls and 

barns that shelter their young until 

majestically arching their tiny form

soar up to a hearth in the heavens .

Afghanistan’s Wreath

Pontificating blaggards,

blanketing women and

blocking their tear filled

pleas, and bludgeoning

plunging humble hopes. 

Praising their own bravery

building a uniformity so 

bleakly fragile lives under

policing of sexuality, face

punishment lash and death. 

——

Politicising injustice runs through the land,

Like the curling freezing fog of late Autumn, 

Killing the chilling life growing so charmingly,

and starving them out in the wraths of winter.  

—-

People in billions watched

beastly cruel celebrations,

binding calibrations of the

Purposeful intent of men

Proposing evil over mercy.

——

Publicity changed nothing,

blagging behind their masks,

bending backwards for Lapis,

pushing to make pathways,

peddling lives for gems.

Love

Those eyes, I look and see myself as he does,

He stares back with leisurely love,

It never wavers,

Each tiny cell speaking peace,

Each lash and brow saying, “Hush.”

Challenged I watch those eyes that watched the children play,

and Blessed them,

turned to the blind and dumb,

and healed them,

looked into the eyes of the broken,

and gave them back a life,

turned the shame of the rejected 

into the warmth of welcome.

greeted the unloved with kindness

and saw them beloved.

I watch and am warmed again.

It started so well.

Alone, silently, a cell splits on a planet,

cold and bleak, traces of life beginning

fragile, hopeful and a stirring of a sigh.

—-

Then others mutate and movements starts

as the urge to live, to create and to be but 

changes the barren land and sea and sky.

Slowly, creeping, altering organisms are

becoming more complex, and are they

choosing and deciding or has something

—–

moved over the waters, shifting, silently

building a life that wakens and urges to

sounds, and calls, and echoes thrilling

—–

the ocean where the slippery shapes of

finned creatures, loving the watery flow

over their various forms,  swim to and fro.

—–

Standing forms are moving now, taking

over places and building their own place,

ignoring their effects and increasing spoil;

——

for the way they made their core contribution,

and the force that begat the beginnings

is destroyed in favour of might and moil.

——

The hope that drove the tiny, trembling cells

is trampled as carbon chokes each millennia’l

budding, and a planet begins to buck, to bend, 

to 

burn.