Golden Wing

Glides on golden wing majestic

Moves through the air with grace

Silent silhouette against the blue

Watching, ever keenly watching

Winding through the valley floor

She whispers in the silent fields

Graceful blue cascading maiden

Twisting, ever gently turning

Silver streaks glisten in the light

Dart through the flowing rushes

Heading home to life’s beginning

Leaping, ever higher leaping

Glides on golden wing majestic

Moves through the air with grace

Silent silhouette against the blue

Watching, ever keenly watching

Carpet strewn with speckled patches

Golden yellow border hues of green

She rolls with flowing dip and crest

Sprawling, ever gently sprawling

Senses twitch at every movement

Dash through the corn filled forests

Tail gaily bobbing he goes to ground

Staring, ever fearful staring

Glides on golden wing majestic

Moves through the air with grace

Silent silhouette against the blue

Watching, ever keenly watching

Lifeless carcass spied from above

Swooping down with grace and poise

Proud golden wing and yellow beak

Feasting, ever cautious feasting

Spreading arms reach out in welcome

Shoulders hide high nesting grounds

Where mother feeds the hungry mouths

Waiting, ever patient waiting

He glides no more on golden wing

No movement now through air with grace

No silent silhouette against the blue

Dying, ever slowly dying

He smiles through twisted rotten teeth

Poisoned bait, twisted traps of steel

Man hunts misguided in his mission

Murdering, wantonly murdering

© Fergus Martin

2012

Three Little Words

Three little words

Mean so much

Soft to touch

Make my day

Guide my way

Quell my fears

Stem my tears

Keep me warm

Calm my storm

Break my heart

Mould my art

Sing my song

All day long

Feel so right

As I write

Three little words

© F Martin

2012

The Silent Land Screams

Green glens lie quiet in the bitter chill of winter’s night

Summer golden valleys echo the eerie sound of silence

Hillsides rustle as natures beasts wander proud and free

In the air sing the voices of winged hunters in full flight

Northern soil turns as hardy souls eke out their existence

And in the hills and glens wild peoples stake their claim

In rocky coastal waters silver fish provide a meagre morsel

A fledgling nation’s psyche is forged in their persistence

With every birth they spread familial reach into the wilds

Bonding with their neighbours in protection and in life

Small tribes become great clans united in their struggles

Borders stretch across the land encompass windswept isles

Warring Chieftains come together forging destiny in blood

Painted people chase invading legions back to walls of stone

Horned raiders coming to the shores vanquished to the deep

Southern hordes left rotting in the bloodied fields of mud

Ancient cultures come together, stride forth as a nation grows

A warrior race emerges from the rugged hills and barren moor

Wanton eyes glint with menace and the need to dominate

Once again the warriors clash, their dead feed the brazen crows 

Proud people stand as one whilst their brothers sell their souls

Birth-rights sold for the southern coin, rich promises and tithes

But still they fight for freedom and their continual existence

Free from foreign domination and twisted silver tongue controls

Fallen kings and warriors lie buried in the blood-soaked past

Those battlegrounds now the silent graves of a nation’s sons

Crushed rebellions and slaughter fuels the warriors descendants

Fighting blood fills the pounding veins of a people built to last

And as the land lies quiet in the bitter chill of a winter’s night

Valleys echo once again to the clarion call of freedom

Hillsides come alive with shrill mutterings of nationhood

And on the air voices sing once more of a country and its might

© F Martin

2012

The Neighbours

Infested with roaches

It sits

A concrete jungle

Festering

On the edge of society

In forest green shade

It spawns

It’s insidious half-lifes

Leeching

From the rest of humanity

In little grey boxes

They swarm

In moth-like attraction

Sucking

The life from community

From father to son

They pass

The rules of avoidance

Praising

Each illegality

Opposite side of the hill

They weep

In tear strewn confusion

Bitter

At life’s new reality

A lifetime of labour

They bled

The fruits of their toils

Rewarded

In a life of frugality

In grim silent houses

They mourn

The death of their every dream

Buried

In life changing finality

They stare at the jungle

And scream

At outrageous injustice

Decrying

Systemic brutality

© F Martin

2012

By The Side Of The Road

As the bitter chill bites

I raise up my collar and shiver

And stare frostily down

At the cold hard black tarmac

Slowly stepping away

And leaving no trace

On the whispery topping

Of the ice-covered track

Shivering now as I watch

Throngs descend on the scene

Of carnage and chaos

Of metal twisted and cracked

Glancing around once again

On a beautiful wintery morn

I gaze at my own sad reflection

As my dying eyes stare back

© Fergus Martin

2012

Glory Days

Sitting in a silent world of contemplation

Thoughts roam untamed in fields of liberation

Gently prodding at the hidden memories inside

Conjures images of a life once full and dignified

Drifting slowly over embers of remembrance

He meanders through a maze of circumstance

Eyes sparkle once again as fireside tales expand

Recalls a life directed by another’s guiding hand

In quiet solitude he seeks peace to reminisce

Of glory days and nights of honourable service

Companions true forever standing freely by his side

Smiles at their unquestionable loyalty and pride

Bonds of dignity, respect they proudly built together

Steel within their souls, hearts gentle as a feather

In unison of spirit eternal brothers they will stand

Their lives directed by another’s guiding hand

Silence of the night invokes the horrors that he’s seen

Memories of places he wished he’d never been

Shattered lives and buildings flash before his eyes

Infestation of the soul silences the battle cries

Smile quickly fades from trembling lips in fading light

Bitter memory he’d left behind charges into sight

Brutal execution of a child in a foreign war strewn land

Simple life ended by another’s blood-stained hand

He flees once more to the sanctity of the memories of joy

The beginning of the journey of man growing from the boy

Pondering significance of all that he accomplished

Grips tightly to the whispers of memories he’s cherished

Old soldier’s time is over; all that’s left are tainted dreams

Of joyful laughter and exuberance and biting bitter screams

And each and every day awakes free at his command

A life no longer driven by another person’s hand

© Fergus Martin

2012

Ghost Train

I sit and I think

But no train comes

The mind a blank canvass

But no ink dries

Thoughts ramble incoherently

Drifting slowly away

Plan erupts suddenly

Then slowly dies

Craving interaction

With nothing to say

Screaming out for company

Ignoring every one

Dying to communicate

Fragility of mind

Words unsaid, unwritten

Empty to the bone

Life’s rich tapestry

Passes swiftly on

Contemplating emptiness

Shallow to the core

Retreat again within yourself

Your private safety net

Seek solace in the solitude

To think once more

© Fergus Martin

2012