The Journey

'Haven' From Visual Counterpoint

Home is the journey from cradle to grave,
Some mark their way with courageous deeds,
Others scatter words like fertile seeds,
Very few find the peace all men crave.

Row your boat gently down the stream,
Neither too fast nor too slow,
Singing softly as you go,
Time is carrying your life’s dream.

We are travellers on the seas of change,
Where no return ticket is for sale,
We only have ourselves to fail,
Here, home on the range.

Life is Light

'As if Immortal' From Visual Counterpoint

Death strikes every day yet
I live as if I were immortal,
Time cannot hold imagination,
It only provides the portal.

Pure magic is not magic,
No conjurer creates reality’s tricks,
Born here and there together yet apart,
Each seeks what the other picks.

Time denies me the future,
And robs me of the past,
The present it gives is constant change,
Wherein life’s light is cast.

In a universe bounded by time,
When imagination is stirred,
Through an infinite variety of relations,
A far richer harmony is heard,

'Life is Light' From Visual Counterpoint

The inspiration for the song is Lee Smolin’s book The Life of the Cosmos.
The inspiration for the photographs is Delamere Forest, Cheshire, England.

Universe of Light and Life

'Sunbeams' From Visual Counterpoint

A cosmos of stars,
Holds the truth of time and space,
Within boundless grace.

Silent sunbeams slip,
To the waiting earth below,
Dancing as they go.

Light my way ahead,
So I do not trip or fall,
But grow to walk tall.

Dawn of Thought

'Imagination' From

I am wild,
I am free,
I am a child,
Let me be.

I can run,
I can fly,
I’m the son-of-a-gun,
Don’t let me die.

I’m today’s dream,
For tomorrow’s sky,
Rising like cream,
As I pass by.

At each sunrise,
I am the key
In disguise,
Imagine, me.


It has been some considerable time since I posted any photographs here or on my website.
I hope to be more active in both fields.

Listen to the Wind

"Listen to the wind" From Visual Counterpoint

Thrown in a box,
Drugged out of my mind,
Both entry and exit closed,
Listen to the wind,
Whispering a way,
Then play.
The game to the end.


Checked by a knight,
While the queen slept,
A bishop lost his belief,
Listen to the wind,
Castles stand alone,
Pawns play,
The game to the end.


Here one or more,
Lie under a namesake,
Dead to the world above,
Listen to the wind,
The king stands castled,
One plays,
This game to the end.

The queen awakes,
With dreams remembered,
Her spirit living for all,
Listen to the wind,
Carrying ash and dust,
Game played,
To the end and beginning.

A Crown for Thorns

From Visual Counterpoint

With the vigour of youth,
And the ignorance of inexperience,
The bramble spread to cover the hedge.

While the sun shone it thrived,
And it grew sharp thorns for defence,
To give itself the edge.

When youth gave way to experience,
So the blackberry was born,
And seed placed with a pledge.

To give everything learned,
To the future and to keep
Doors open with a wedge.

With the colour of life lived,
And the prize of persistence,
The bramble now crowns the hedge.

Dear Connie

I have restored this blog in answer to Connie's plea.

I have continued writing because quite frankly I cannot stop.
I have not yet decided whether to post my writings

I have also restored two of my other blogs that contain photographs that may give pleasure.