three

1
He has seen more than I
His height betrays his age
He has watched from his steady home
The ever changing parade of fashions
On this outdoor runway.
He has seen the timid, soft-feathered duckling
become the sleek, assertive duck.
He watched as lovers kissed
and others fought, spouting words of hate.
He has taken part in picnics
and observed teenagers tasting their first drink,
puffing their first cigarette.
Oh, the stories he could tell.
But no one will ever hear.
His is a life of silence,
A life of beauty and strength,
But quiet.
The only sound,
The sigh of a breeze
passing through his leaves.

2
Perfection exists:
in a cold glass of Pimms,
a view of the river,
the dome of St. Pauls.
Making you feel
a little closer to heaven;
the eternal joy of a life enjoyed.
Can I sit here forever
in this moment of bliss,
where I taste the divine?
It blows over me
like a welcome breeze
on a scorching day.

3
Just because I should know better
doesn't mean I do.
I grow tired of the constant battle
between my head and my heart.
I want to dream big
but an exposed heart
is often left raw.
But one sheletered,
is that better?
The possibility of pain is small,
but the chance of joy even smaller.
Shall I take the gamble,
toss the dice,
lay my cards on the table,
or maintain my poker face?
Cause this is an all or nothing situation.
Not sure if I can give it all,
not willing to end up with nothing.