Endless Days and other poems

Lying on top of a haystack
Do you remember those glad days
And how I loved you endlessly
Dreaming under the sun's hot rays

We explored the universe
In our imagination
Infinity attracted us
In silent adoration
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The Computer

A computer has a command and control system
And a memory
And a central processing system
But no free will
And no emotions
If the command and control system breaks down
The computer is inactive
It cannot work, but its memory is still there
But it feels no pain

A human being has a command and control system - or what makes
one get up
and go
And a memory
And a central processing (nervous) system
A human being has free will
A human being has emotions
If the command and control system breaks down
The human being is inactive and cannot work
But the memory is still there
And the emotions are still working
But what the free will wants cannot be carried out
And the human being feels pain

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Angel's Music

Persistently I walked
Along a dusty road
And did not pause
Thirst was the goad

A man had offered
A glass of lemonade
A lift by car
I refused this aid

I had to go alone
Was this a penance?
Or was it a fad?
Or was it a dance?

No people thereabouts
No houses either
No sheep, no dogs
Just hot weather

A lonely gravel track
And the sweltering sun
Three miles to walk
What had I done?

In a strange country
As quiet as a mouse
Walking back to my room
In an empty house

Then came a song
Too beautiful for any voice
From a man or woman
It was the angels-rejoice

It was a hymn to Mary
But never sung in church
It was a free gift
Never found by search

I doubted the angels
Was there a gramophone?
But this could not be
For I was quite alone

The nearest house
Was far away
Beyond a field
What could I say?

The music was loud
But not instrumental
It was right next to me
So loud but so gentle

So I was not alone
An angel walked with me
When I got home
A friend waited with tea

I sat in her room
The angel sang again
Quite softly this time
And gently like rain

Did you hear that?
To her I whispered
No it was not a record?
It was the angels we've heard

I had doubted the angels
Then the song was renewed
"I can hear the angels," I said
For both of us this was good.

That song
Remains with me
An unearthly music
Which is also with thee.

Joan Hughes Sunday 24.9.2000.
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The thinking cat

Little cat, I look into your cool, green eyes
And wonder what is in your silent mind
Not speaking aloud, but by your active paws
Your body language leaves human thought behind.

Joan Hughes 1.10.2000.

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What is Science?

Science isolates the properties of matter
It is about the real world or is it?
In the real world people natter and natter
And science cannot make sense of that.

Did God light the blue touch-paper
And set things going with a big bang?
Then letting the world get on with things
Evolution creating claw and fang?

It could not be like this
For God himself is within the atom
He looks after every sparrow
In ways we cannot fathom.

Someone took home a little lost kitten
From the violent streets last night
It is the God within who does these things
And from the shadows creates the light

Joan Hughes
17.10.2000

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The news

Pictures in confusion on my walls
Paper from the table falls
Dash from the kitchen -telephone calls
Over the fence children's balls

A nameless sad feeling galls
Being lost in shopping malls
Waiting in empty church halls
Every entertainment palls

We are broken reeds amidst windy squalls
While all about are violent brawls
The news is often what appals
Viewing overturned and plundered stalls

Brighter news - the hunter-killers broken
The navy should accept this token
Abandon nuclear weapons now
Do not before this false god bow.

Joan Hughes 23.10.00

Nonsense

It takes ages and ages
Copying computer pages
I am full of rages
But a cup of tea me assuages

Assoil me! That is in the hymn book
Dictionaries do not give the meaning
No avail in the thesaurus to look
But I feel that is what I am needing!

Stroking Cosy
Towards a picture of a black and white cat
I approach and touch her nose and ear
And run my finger along her back
Stroking Cosy as if she was still here.
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Autumn leaves

Autumn leaves dappling the green
To clear them up and make things tidy
Destroys the brilliance of varied colours
And the crackle as we crunch them idly

Outside St. Mary's Church
It was pleasant to lurk
In autumn on the way to school
Stirring leaves - avoiding work.
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(Based on Baruch 5:1-9- Jerusalem Bible 1968)

Advent

When the mountains are flattened
We will see a glory wild
When the valleys are filled in
We will see a little child

The mountains are the obstacles
Like envy, anger, rage
Which are left for us to shift
Before we see the glory of our age

The valleys are the barriers
Of pride and sloth and fear
Which we must step across
Then Christ's glory will be near.
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No Words- a prayer

I am earth-bound when I wish to rise to heaven
I crawl about in a dark place, rushing here and there
I do not know the words to say to God, so ask him
Just to find the words and say them for me.
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Leaflets

Handing leaflets out
No, don't shout, don't shout
Press gently into hand
They'll read what it is about

Near the Foreign Office each Monday
On the dark street corner stand
Light a candle in the gloom
Put a leaflet into hand

Sunset over St. James Park
Our work is just about to start
On the darkling streets we dance
Let the children live-have a heart

A glimmer of light-a trickle of hope
The sanctions are dying- Iraq will revive
Her children will live and take part
In world trade and remain alive

Handing leaflets out
No, don't shout - don't shout
Press gently into hand
They'll read what it is about
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Solstice blues

Down down down
I am gloom
I am jelly
I am a worm

Rubbish piles high
There is some noise
I sigh and sigh
Gone are all joys

Imagine a cat
T'will move and jump
Never goes down
Or gets the hump

Imagine some flowers
Are growing wild
On Hackney Marshes
Some lovely hours

The shortest day
Just clouds, no rain
No movement outside
A grey window pain

Enough of all this
There is work to do
And no other hands
It will see me through

Joan Hughes 21.12.00

Robin alone

I've seen a robin today
Pecking the ground
Where worms abound
While the frost abates
It has time for play
But where have all the sparrows gone?
They have left us so long alone

I've seen a starling today
With feathers puffed out
No worms to pull out
From the frozen earth
So it soon goes away
But where have all the sparrows gone?
They have left us so long alone

I've seen a blackbird today
Sitting on a bare branch
IN the twig it may find lunch
Or perhaps eat some withered fruit
So it delves and scratches away
But where have all the sparrows gone?
They have left us so long alone

Joan Hughes 17.1.01
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Uranium 238

Snow flakes are falling
They make the earth clean
Even the rubbish dumps
Look fit to be seen

Are there alpha particles?
In the dunps of Kosovo
Where children are playing
Over balls bending low

Is the snow lying thickly?
Hiding uranium thirty-eight
Covering over the armoured shells
Where alpha particles lie in wait

Joan Hughes 19.1.01.

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Silent World

Silence they say is golden
Not when it's enforced
Let me hear again the birdsong
And the barking of dogs
Students chattering over tea
Rustling of leaves in the wind

Glad that my sojourn is temporary
In this eerie muffled silent world
Soon the sound will break through
I may grumble about noise
That irritates and deafens
But I value the variety
The music sweet and unending
Of the ordinary humdrum world

The cat and the mouse

The mouse mat is dented
The cat's paws were there
In remote corners
Remain traces of hair

Behind the cat's photo
A happier cat shines
With a smile on her face
She is writing these lines

At least I think so
Or why do the shadows of the leaves
Produce a contented white cat
Which my sadness relieves

The computer mouse is failing
I can hear the white cat laughing
For she is no longer ailing
Only the mouse is now wailing

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Gulls

There are few gulls left on Clapton Pond
They are lovely, reminding me of childhood
Their shrill shrieking cries thrill me
Stay longer gulls, if you would.

One coot has returned to float about
On Clapton Pond- will there be a nest
Of grey, open-throated chicks with red noses?
While parents search for food they serenely rest.

Come back again coots this year
Please build your nest here
Later you'll wander away
Seemingly without a care

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Sounds returning after deafness

There is a rustling of nylon from my slacks
There is a click when lights go on
There is the sound of feet on pavements
Sounds not heard for ages and ages

The sound has come back with a rush
The telephone rings- I can hear it
The door bell is as loud as drills
The traffic makes an almighty roar

The computer makes a soft hissing
There is a dog barking outside
Feet are walking over the floor
My ears are once more open wide.
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Hackney's open spaces
Are stunning places
To walk and wonder
To just stand under
The big, sprouting tree
By the River Lea

Watch wheeling gulls
As they make their way
To return to the sea
For food and for play
Quiet flows the river
Be it so for ever.
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Easter

Dawn chorus in the inner city
Reminds us of the Divine Milieu
It brings us peace and felicity
Shows God's love as gentle as the dew

Creator God who made the sparrow
Touches our hearts with love's arrow
Christ's resurrection echoed in Spring
God's loving brush over everything
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Rough garden-------------------------------------------------

The blackbird and the starling and the pigeon
Have come together to visit my garden
The frost is gone so they'll find some pickings
In ground that's soaking like a thawing fen

Brambles entwine with deadly nightshade
Everything looks and feels almost dead
No butterflies in his cold weather
But there remains buddleia's seed-head

Joan Hughes 23.1.01.

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The Peacock

In return for cake
The peacock's display
Was given to me
On this summer day

This male seemed so pleased
With my company
No hen was in sight
He had only me

Targeted feathers
Were proudly unfurled
Which lifted and cheered
My view of the world

His call was a croak
But blending with geese
He picked up the crumbs
And wanted so to please

With tourist's camera
His image was caught
Taken round the globe
Where children are taught
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A Quiet Man from Afghanistan

My watch strap is quite new
A pale, quiet man fixed it
He spoke with a slight accent
He stood all day- would not sit

"You have done a good job
At a moderate price.
Where do you come from?" asked I
Thinking that he was quite nice.

"I am Asian," he answered
"But you're pale. Can you be Indian?"
No, from Northern parts
Yes, I come from Afghanistan.

Life goes on just as usual
A flying kitten hit my hand
A clever cat, a cheerful cat
Cats live here and in desert sand.
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Everywhere bombs

Thinking of Afghanistan
Makes us feel very, very sad
Bombs dropping everywhere
Makes us feel very, very bad

When will it ever end?
Starting on Christian Sunday
To clear out some bad guys
When will we find another way?

Poetry is an exercise of the imaginaion
With tongue and paws and tail
My cat writes poems also
When she lets out a wail

She is a sucking cat
Not sitting on the mat
But sucking at my clothes
Imagines me as big cat

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Rousseau, it appears
Lets the boys go wild
But the girls have rules to keep
For them life is not so mild.
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Doggerel

The worst of verse
Is called doggerel
But at least these writers
Usually Know how to spell
Doggerel writers
have no sense of rhythm

The next in merit
Is called simply verse
Moderately readable
Some pieces are much worse

The most inspiring
Is called poetry
Beginners usually
Do not aspire so high

Rhyming does not make verse
Turn into doggerel
Not rhyming does not promote
Most verse into poetry

To rhyme or not to rhyme
That is the question
Sometimes there is no time
To think much about this
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The Urban Fox

The rubbish bags are torn
Thus fox leaves tell-tale signs
Then barking so softly
The night hours full of whines

It seems a fight goes on
Is Ashley my cat crying?
I check her chair at midnight
Relieved I find her lying

At mid-day my cat goes out
On a very frosty morning
Then fox creeps into garden
In silence; it gives no warning

Horizontally it holds its tail
As big as a small dog
It boldly walks along the ground
While Ashley lies like a log.

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Catliness

She is showing off her catliness
With one bound leaping into lap
Running up and down the corridor
Before settling down to take a nap

She is showing off her tabbiness
Never still; so very kittenish
Mischievously gnawing red carpet
Eating all that's left in the red dish
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Life is in broken pieces

My cat jumped up and broke the screen
The shards were picked up and thrown away
Some people collect and collect
The books not read for many a day

The computer files never again opened
The papers in some very dusty file
But rays of sunshine when an old letter
Makes me shed my gloom, relax and smile

The thermos flask has a cracked stopper
The umbrella is torn, luckily lost
My life is like that in broken pieces
But new letters from friends are in the post

QWe cannot stop the march of time
A sunny day stays in the memory
Old cats still enjoy the sunshine
Somone gives me a perfect cup of tea

Incomprehesible infinity
Roaming through the stars
Adventures beckoned us
Who had no worldy cares

Seemingly endless days are gone
Only remaining in our memory
Images returning sometimes
Bringing glimpses of felicity