Views in Verse on Restoration

The Light

The light does surely leave us surreal

Enveloping dark therein;

Jousting thoughts can lead us on

Until sleep will rightly claim.

Therein the joy and the fear commix,

A tumbling pitch
Imagination’s game.

But the blink of an eye

A revival swells;

Out of bewiderment breaks

…a clean, bright new day!

Darkest trials now put to rest

Virtuality guides you on, beckoning

“come …come along  ...come this way”

Grahame J Flynn Views-in-Verse Copyright

Views in Verse on 'ambition'

The Sanguine Journeyman

While the narcissists among us

Are said to rule the world

Whatever in turn becomes of their kindred's plight?

For those, who co-exist, is there a subtle twist?

Whatever helps to get you through the night?

For fate is a four-letter word, ambition a noble curse.

Yet if chance crowned me,

Banquo’s ghost would sure to laugh out loud

ill-placed trust leads man to an early hearse.

Pleasing one’s masters, true

Is an exercise in vain

They'll singularly proclaim their exalted position.

Taking credit as they may,

With every passing day.

Yet failure is met with little or no contrition.

One might say ambition feeds the soul…

But if this is all that matters in a world of disbelief

Then it’s a long long way to the top just to get a chiko roll !

Grahame J Flynn Views in Verse

Views in Verse on restitution

VENICE

She came to Venice ancient city

Seeking shelter from her seas

Throwing wide her troubled life

To new discovery

Questions of the past

To find some answers for today

Seeking reawakening...

And staving off decay

Stepping into St Marc's Square

The rain came belting down

She was wetted fully through 

once she'd made her way cross town

A fresh baptism was to be

The ideal starting place

For this private quest

This pilgrimage...

This enchanted chase

Sad lady open up 

your stone shutters

Your face is

Beautiful to see

Mystical city

Flint hard through the years

Give up your mysteries to me

She searched all round for insight

Especially of the old

As she moved through the crowds

each passing day

A boatman gave her wonder

of a culture pure and true 

As they paddled off in song

Around the bay

But the town guides were more

in tune with their buildings

that stood so stoically in line

They spoke in detail 

of the history there to see 

the secret to

the passion there enshrined

Sad lady open up

your stone shutters

Your face is

Beautiful to see

Mystical city

Flint hard through the years

Give up your mysteries to me

The black gondola stealing 

through the walled canyons 

Drew images 

of deepest treachery

While the fog of narrow alleyways

Asked so many questions 

About how closed

you really want your life to be

But the stories that

she heard were mainly 

comfort to her cause

As she sought to draw the

secrets from within

And the kindly folk

she came to know from it all

stood tall amongst

their finery and sin

Sad lady open up 

your stone shutters

Your face is

Beautiful to see

Mystical city

Flint hard through the years

Give up your mysteries to me

She waved goodbye to Venezia

From beneath the sacred domes 

A morning mist 

Near lifted from the mire

The dull tones 

she had seen from the first

Gave way to dancing colours 

from a spire

At this moment she knew that 

the Lady had touched her

In wresting her pain

from deep within

The gift so gently offered 

was gratefully taken

As the rain again

played gently on her skin

Sad lady open up 

your stone shutters

Your face is

Beautiful to see

Mystical city

Flint hard through the years

Thank you for your 

Truth and dignity...

You have given back

the woman that is me

Forwarded from my I phone - Grahame J Flynn - Views in Verse

Views in Verse on 'LIFE is what YOU make it!'

THE WELL HEELED CROWD

She was a stunner as a young'un
When her star was on the rise
She caught the eye of an older man
A well heeled kind-a-guy

He got around with a spring in his step
While he sported his brand new catch
While she dined 'alfresco' with the social set 
Such a seasonal match

Summer in the Cote D'azure 
the usual soirée...
Picking up a purchase here and there 
set the right tone for the day

Commitment never seemed an issue
As they used one another with style
Burning the candle at both ends
Marriage would wait a while

She sometimes thought about a family 
when evening would fall hard
Raising the subject from time to time
Was met with flowers and card

In truth it seemed a little odd to her
that she simply didn't just 'fall...'
He offered that 'his life was hectic' 
Which explained very little at all

Later on it was as the facts came out
That he simply couldn't 'sire'
He sent her a stunning necklace
And some suitable words in a wire...

"I felt you knew when we took this up
That I'm not a fatherly guy
I love what we do have together
But I don't really know just why?"

That night she looked hard in the mirror
And did not really like what she saw
He said he needed some time abroad
From below she heard the door...

The impact of this hit her hard
and made her clearly think
What is it that I really do ...?
Except go out to functions and ...drink"

And most of her 'friends' 
now seemed so very
dreary with their lot
Just "keeping up with their daily grind"
And paying for what they'd got

On further thought she began to muse 
that winter came early this year
Recently she had just stayed at home 
While he "paid for it all ...my dear"

In that moment she came to realise
That he expected very little in fact
he flawlessly kept up his end of the deal 
in that he always did come back!

Looking again in the mirror so cold
Her thoughts they drifted afar...
I know of a perfect winter retreat
"I can spend a few weeks at the Spa"

Forwarded from my I pad - Grahame J Flynn Views in Verse

Views in Verse on dependency

Views in Verse on 'dependency'

Hearth, Home & Street

Hearth, Home & Street

The beast is gone
The beast is dead
Why can’t I square that with my head?
...if only;
Alive to chance
A daily trance
A barefaced joker lonely.
Again I press to
Call out loud
“The beast is gone”
Took the last train out,
Burnt my mind
On a roundabout;
…measured breathing
Just now begun.

Broken concrete
Heartless street
No rest now for tired feet,
Pride too is
Long since traded;
Desperate facing, ‘close’ relations
Diminished, pale and
Long since jaded.
Kind words
Lost on barren ground;
Where endurance alone
Drums a weary sound;
Fate locked lagging from
What was once...
A hopeful beat.

Whom to trust?
Whom doth contrive?
In that which beggars
And belies
A stunned and blundering fool;
Yet keenly aware of damage done,
Stark reddened ash to cool.
Reaffirmed now,
At least to try,
Where dark truth does resile,
Somewhere out there, ...plotting;
Loosened shackles
That feign release
From our values...
Relentlessly rotting.

Grahame J Flynn Views in Verse