Poem No 196

by Roger Taber

LOVE IS

Love is beautiful
no matter who, where, how or why,
nor always reciprocal but lets us laugh,
lets us cry, like champagne bringing a tear
to an eye long since made dry by seasons
with no heart but simply getting by
for getting by's sake, our reasons for living
worthy enough and true yet going through
the motions of existence without existing,
getting up, going to bed and getting up again
without kissing the sunshine, embracing the rain,
warming ourselves by the fires of humanity
when struck by the cold of everyday insanity;
We are who we are, no matter how or why,
nor always free (or able) to laugh, cry, with those
around us to whom we mean everything.
Even so, let us hear the lark sing in our hearts,
though not always the same song and love work
its tender miracle, no matter whether reciprocal
in every shape or form - for it's love, alone,
keeps us safe, keeps us warm. Let the world
do its worst, our love will shelter us from harm
nor its spirit fail to light our way should
darkness descend, though it be a different light
at the end of another tunnel. For light, like love,
is beautiful…as enough, indeed, to love
and be loved at all

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2003

by Frank Hogan

Apprentice Training

We camped in the village of Pentrewr

Below the Horseshoe Pass

And the valley echoed to bleating lambs

As we checked our maps and made our plans

And set off class by class

Mick and Bob with the A team

Arthur and I with the B's

As they headed up to Offa's Dyke Path

With a joke and a jibe and a half-hearted laugh

And disappeared into the trees

There was Scally, Dale and Threlfall

Challenger, Jobson and Gee

And they carried their packs high on their backs

And followed the B team along the tracks

To the cross-roads under the scree

The A's went north and the B's went south

And the sun went out like a light

Then the rain came down from the darkening skies

But we pressed on upwards with aching thighs

Until a cairn came into sight

The two teams met at the top of the pass

But the A team got there first

The cafe was warm and the tea was hot

And we argued who'd had the hardest trot

As we rested and slaked our thirst

Poem No 198

By Bess Hall

What Faustian plot

is festering

along the supermarket isles?

What warning voices

innocent smiles

urging you to take the pledge?:

To sell your soul

your love of beef

for everlasting

fruit and veg -

tomatoes redder than

the fires of Hell

lettuce, green as envy

of an hour-glass shape

And what of the grape

Ah, do not drink too deep -

you may forget the lure

of Orange Juice

So devilishly pure

Oh, come away

from all these blandishments -

life is a dream

and much too brief

to have your coffee

without cream

to scorn the delights

of roasted pork

or spend your nights

with sad unsaturated chips

upon your lips

Comrades, awake

It's just your fear

they play on

Stand up for a short life

and a gay one!

Poem No 199

is untitled by RACHAEL BOWMAN

Like red despair from pale hands sadly wrung

Departed passion of roses ne’er be mine

So how to love, my scarlet need unsung?

My lover will not wither on the vine

She blooms inconstant like a fragile petal

Not furling slow or tender as a bud

I protect my wounded heart in metal

As her breast in languor drones thud on grasping thud

She teases me with dreams of other lives

Unfocused eyes: my love perverse lies still

We dance in bright moonlight, like sharpened knives

Our death-waltz gone eternal by my will

Death will freeze her beauty.  Lucky reaper!

I killed her for I knew no way to keep her

Like red despair from pale hands sadly wrung

Departed passion of roses ne’er be mine

So how to love, my scarlet need unsung?

My lover will not wither on the vine

She blooms inconstant like a fragile petal

Not furling slow or tender as a bud

I protect my wounded heart in metal

As her breast in languor drones thud on grasping thud

She teases me with dreams of other lives

Unfocused eyes: my love perverse lies still

We dance in bright moonlight, like sharpened knives

Our death-waltz gone eternal by my will

Death will freeze her beauty.  Lucky reaper!

I killed her for I knew no way to keep her