Poem: Window

A window silently gives chance reflection
And an ability to see through what was, perhaps,
once a wall, mortar and mortal.
Standing, still,
structured and supporting.
Hands made you and then betrayed you.
And what of what once hung upon it?
For now this pane serves as a self portrait
To the fleet of foot who pass you by.
Mirror, mirror, once a wall
Reflect, hold fast and tell us all.

Poem: Night in November

Revellers in the quiet of the night,

Whipped by wind, 

Hands held to unite against the cold.

Crunching November's pavements

In pursuit of a well lit corner,

Fireside and pints in hand.

Now imbibed, merrier, 

Love finds a voice.

Wonderers, wandering, return on diagonals 

And close the door with a kiss.