Geoffrey Fafard

Well I slid on down to the crossroads
In the darkest hour of night
...

A long long time ago
There lived a boy
Who in his youth
Witnessed life with joy
...

Savvy my old girl
Has been crook
Bleeding from the mouth and
Acute Pancreas inflammation.
...

Immigrant father from the land of terror
What have you learnt now that your son is dead
Conscripted youth fleeing back to the land of terror
What awaits you my child, my boy, my dead young man?
...

Only now dear one
In my hour of need I call on you,
Call for you, call out to you
Please help me now, right now, I beg
...

The Angel of Tomorrow (The agonies of a little boy lost in the dark)

The angel of tomorrows light
Saw me shed a tear
...

I walked from the big house to the villas
In the cool of the late tuscan night
I smelt wheat grass and orange blossom
I heard owls and night birds
...

ROPE.

Along the road of sin.
Lots of rope he carries
...

(with so many apologies to her)

So there you are and here I am
An ageing friend and an strange old man
...

(From a series—Dogs I Have Known.)

Rosie. part terrier, part wind up dog
Part lucky dog
...

A splintered moon rises
Over the village of my ramblings
And a cold mist follows, a chilly blanket
Deep from the valley floor
...

Plunge into the green
walk headlong into the perfume
talk to bees, lady bugs and worms
Don't worry about where you are
...

It is so important
This season to quietly
Listen to
Whispered vanishing sounds
...

In my new house there is a ghost
Sadly I do not believe in ghosts
I've been told I need a cleansing
A smoking ceremony
...

Those that walk through the jungle
The thick wet impenetrable forest
In the dark hours of night
Looking for something to talk to and
...

I caught them by their heads
One giant motley brown
One giant lollipop green
I could almost hear them
...

Lonely is the mist of these hills
Lost high the thick forests of deodar رخت
Thin clouds hurrying over peaks
Even bird calls are lonely
...

We do not wish to alarm you
But we must pass on to you
The matter of the Leopard
That roams these hills
...

Fortunate am I to reside
On the edge of the wilderness
Requiring only small effort
To reach little seen
...

It is spring here on the edge of the wilderness
and the night smells of
Wild watermelon wine
Winter has packed her sullen suitcase
...