Cat
Pussy cat, pussy cat
Serene and relaxed
Sitting on lap
Purring being stroked
Soothing words of love spoken.
Pussy cat, pussy cat
Hunting in the garden
Seeking mice and birds
Creeping through long grass
Queen of her domain.
Pussy cat, pussy cat
Beloved precious friend
Sleeping on sofa
Dreaming of sunny days
Prowling garden seeking prey.
Shea
Brave heart in wheelchair
Communicates with smiles
Twinkle of eyes
Beloved son and brother.
Shea the cherished
Daily showing courage
Supported by family
Parents and sister supreme.
Bones at dying
Bones at dying shall not quake
Nor decay with feasting of the worms
For the spirit of this God loving soul
Shall never harbour in the ground.
Breaking free with that force
Which drove each flower into the light
Soul tossed by furies from purple storms
Sheltering where the mind creates its visions.
Days of thunder
Days of thunder roar and rage
Holding memories fast
Howling storm’s furies.
Once I was young
Chasing dreams and love
Never faltering in my step.
Days of thunder seemly endless
As I outran each purple storm
Never breaking pace nor denying God.
Old apple tree
There is an apple tree
At the bottom of the garden
Where my brother and I once played
Swinging on branches
Climbing high and low.
Tree has stood a century
Giving September crop of apples
Now in my old age a shrine
With memories of childhood.
There is an apple tree
Where I often go and sit beneath
And if I listen very hard
I hear my brother’s happy cries
As we climbed high and low.
Compass points
Beauty lies frozen in death’s embrace, reclined
Coffin held, four compass points of my life
Now still, silent as stone, eyes forever closed
Leaving me a traveller without soulmate.
In life my daily road, route into full of light
Seed of love’s most wondrous flowering
Steadfast rock within stormy seas, unyielding
Sweetest truth which death cannot deny.
Hope and promise for tomorrow’s dawn
Who in life kissed, embraced, was treasured.
Death took all away and time has stopped
With no more stars, sun and moon.
My lover was my morning, noon and night
Breath, I took, beat of heart, life’s sweetest joy.
To read more poetry by Colin Ian Jefferey, click here.
About the Author
Colin Ian Jefferey is an established English poet and novelist with world-wide reputation. He was seven, a choirboy, when he became entranced by poetry after hearing the twenty-third psalm. The beauty of the words struck his soul like lightning and his Muse began to sing. He then found poetry was being read on the BBC radio Home Service and would listen in awe and delight to such poets as Dylan Thomas, John Betjeman, and Ted Hughes.
