Remember that face
Features unmistakable
On clouds descending
copyright Francis Barker 2020
Haiku: On Clouds
Tag: Sunday
Sunday Haiku: Come Back
It's said you'll return I am ready to greet you I have seen your face
copyright Francis Barker 2020
‘Clouds’: Sunday Thinking
I believe you were calling me,
that young boy lying on his parents’ bed,
dreaming on clouds and patches of sky,
reading parables while others were out riding,
fishing or up to some other mischief.
I was alone, a misfit, a seeming solitaire
who was later gifted a wife and a son,
my greatest treasures. I hope that they,
through my eccentric faith
which has wandered far, will be
blessed too on that awesome day when
different clouds will descend from heaven’s blue.
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Poem ‘Ways Out’
Ways Out
During those darker days
while Dad dug the earth,
I would stand with him
and dream of the sky,
that it might send an angel
in a shining silver disk
to whisk me away
to some fantastic world,
as far away as possible
from that featureless place
Once my dreams were done
each mournful Sunday night,
that was when I’d watch him
sitting hunched before
his old bespoke radios,
yellow fingers twisting knobs
while turning his ear
to strange sideband sounds,
smirking to Southern drawl charm
engaging cool Transvaal
I knew it was his way out,
released and briefly lost
among the wild waves,
bringing some colour to his world
before I’d hear the clock wind up,
the curtains being drawn
poem and image © copyright df barker 2012
Poem ‘Another Day in Helmand’
Another Day in Helmand
He joined willingly
and has no complaints.
This is the life he chose.
He signed on the dotted line
knowing the score from day one;
about the low rates of pay
and the invisible enemy
who won’t play by the rules.
And show me where they said
all the equipment would be there,
that it would be all up to date.
There were benefits, too;
he was lauded several times by
flying visits of premiers and ministers,
who stood squinting in the sun
praising his courage, his skill,
in the best army in the world.
Yes, the cause was just,
his presence there directly protected
those he loved back home:
Our freedom, our democracy.
Yes, it was tough but he knew
he would have a trade,
something to contribute,
something solid to show
for his service to a grateful country,
plus a good pension to fall back on.
Now, not everyone has that.
I saw him the other day
admiring poppies in the sun,
to the clatter of pans and plates,
the warming sounds of Sunday lunch.
He’d been reading the paper
and that’s where I saw the
map of Helmand province
thrusting up into that rugged land,
where his life was changed
and such medals were won –
and where his legs were lost.
poem and image © copyright df barker 2012
* first published in poetry collection ‘Anonymous Lines’, which can be found at amazon.com
Ciscography 