
Long ago summers
Fresh fragrances of our youth
Swards of innocence
Copyright Francis 2021

Long ago summers
Fresh fragrances of our youth
Swards of innocence
Copyright Francis 2021

That was the year
that was —
I present it to the flames
of purification,
scrying the images
for sign and portent
of brave futures unknown.
Outside, nature’s nudity
tears at my soul,
this cold dawn of realisation,
the privation of my heart, lost
somewhere between the sky,
that vast horizon
where a glacial sun greets,
sole testament to the day.
Last year’s summation
I’m sifting wheat from the chaff
Using discernment
Copyright Francis 2021

Just another day,
the second hand’s heavy, relentless tick
tells me to raise a fizzy glass,
toast these new beginnings
I’ve been yearning for, forever.
So here’s to you, all of us,
crossing this threshold of hope,
to witness a new dawn
when the bearer pours out his spirit,
that free flow of wisdom
hidden from the ages.
Copyright Francis 2021

Arachnid remnants
Clinging to uncertainty
Faith’s sole adventure
Copyright Francis 2020

This world may shiver
A dormant, frozen domain
The light will return
Copyright Francis 2020