Nightcap

The house lies quiet, silent, save for one solitary footfall

Echoing in the silence the weary tread stalks these halls

Each step announcing its arrival in the rooms now dimmed

Moonlight casting shadows of the man that once was him

Polished floors groan and creak as each foot caresses it

And in the dark of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Glasses sparkle in the flicker of the moonlight’s wonder

Gentle caresses as they touch sound increasingly like thunder

Amber nectar swirls in the glass as he pours without a care

The drink of god’s it was, and he raises his salute in the air

Throwing open his throat he drowns his sorrows deep within it

And in the dark of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Shining like a beacon the beauty flickers in the shadows

Polished reflections dancing brightly as the fire glows

His gentle touch caresses her, strokes her polished frame

Grasps her firmly in his hand, hums a lullabies refrain

As he reaches for the bottle and the joy contained within it

In the darkness of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Welcome warmth of glowing fireplace spits embers to the floor

That smoulder softly in the twilight, fade and burn no more

Leather-bound he sits encased in arms of sure protection

Gazing at the vacuum that surrounds him ponders sweet reflection

Watching dreams within the flames frolic now as they see fit

In the darkness of the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Glancing at the hearth carved frame of wood leads his eyes

To the images and memories of his family and their lives

Grand children as they played happily in fine winter snow

Birthday celebrations with their grinning faces all aglow

Loving wife and caring son lives full of passion and pure grit

As the darkness fills the room he pours another fine Glenlivet

Country walks and fireside talks, bold bright adventures in the sun

Cottages and castles, each and every moment savoured one by one

Smiling deep within, every loving memory sheds another tear

Every image that he conjures from the flames that burn, so clear

Reaching for the welcome bottle and the life contained within it

As the darkness fills the room he pours his final fine Glenlivet

Flames falling ever lower turn the room to dark of night

Slowly wandering his memories meander to that sight

House and life are empty devoid of reason and of soul

Drunken carnage on the road smashing all that once was whole

Ironic glass within his hand he curses stupid drunken fools

Grasping tight upon his polished beauty, his trigger finger pulls

© Fergus Martin

2013

Dearest “Friend”

How could I be so stupid? 

How could I be so blind?

How was it that I could not see how wonderfully intelligent

you have become in such a short time.

The vast intellect that you possess and display on a daily basis both
astounds
and amazes me.

I am in awe at the keen incisiveness of your mind

and the overpowering intellect that you possess.

Your viewpoint on the world today are insightful
and delightful.

You sir,  are truly an overwhelming force of nature and
my experiences pale

to nothing beside yours to such an extent that I begin to doubt my own worth.

Every word that you utter is heard by oh so many and even

the dumbest person on this planet

learns something from you on a daily basis.
I would be amazed if they did not such is the power of your words
that you have surely become a god amongst men as your

originality and perception become the norm
and is repeated and shared amongst your
friends.

All my experiences, all my learning has all been for nothing

as it becomes clear that you were
born naturally far more gifted than any other person on this planet
The power of your brain enthrals me on a daily basis,
the incisiveness of your wit delights me and I am left
dumbfounded
by my sheer lack of cognisance in all matters.

It amazes me that all those employers as you rightly say
fail to see the greatness in you, proving once more
that this planet is yours and yours alone.
They are wrong, and I remain utterly convinced that one
of the thousands of applications you send on a daily basis
will eventually bear fruit as I am sure you will
find employment within a like-minded world
as it eventually falls into line with your vision of correctness.

My own imperfections and ineptitude in all matters forces me to make a
heartfelt choice since I am no longer worthy of being in your company,
nor you in mine
I wish you luck.

Yours

A former follower

© Fergus Martin

2012

The Trident

In the frozen ice capped

Mountains high above Valgur

The three ice cold tips

Of the mighty spear are formed

Glistening brightly on the

Shoulders of the hillside

With each rising sun

They are warmed

On separate crests they weave

Seamlessly binding as one

With the tines of the spear

The infant forks of Poseidon

Winding on their stem unnoticed

Unheralded in their existence

Save for beasts that they nourish

Whose lives they forever brighten

Where the forks meet they converge

And their strength becomes pooled

Harnessed power in triplicate moving

As one channelled in motion

Villagers bow in their presence

Vowing fealty to all that they bring

As their tines are pitched in the meadow

They proffer undying devotion

Bound as they are to the staff

Tines power transferred to the hilt

Where it drives forward with every stride

Giving nurture to all that it meets

Harnessing nature’s resources

Poseidon’s symbol of life weaves its way

Crashing into the lap of it’s god

The Trident its father it greets

© Fergus Martin

2012

If

If dreams were wishes

I’d wish only for you

If wishes were thoughts

I’d think only of you

If thoughts were words

I’d speak only of you

If words were actions

I’d act only for you

If actions were cravings

I’d crave only you

If cravings were desires

I’d desire only you

If desires were feelings

I’d feel only for you

If feelings were dreams

If

© Fergus Martin

2012

Just Another Day

The shrill scream shatters the cold morning silence

as the sound of a cat being throttled drifts through the window.

But soon the faltering feline regains her haltering voice
sweetly lamenting the loss of a lover in times gone past.

As he gazes wistfully into the day, a flash of gold catches his eye
as it swoops towards the unharvested yellow fields of bounty.

Returning to the sky clasping its prey tightly in powerful talons
another meal for the grasping mouths of the next generation

In the distance the river bounces over a floor of weathered stones
twisting and dashing down the path to the great beyond.

The salmon will leap up its path during the coming season
dancing merrily towards the ancestral breeding grounds of hope.

As the clouds slowly darken over, grey clouds threaten to erupt
but pass to nothing as the golden orb rises from its slumber.

As it warms the rustling dew laden leaves of the small wood on the hill,
they reach out and unfurl in the welcoming bright dawn.

The howl of the wolf shakes him from his blissful reverie
as he cries out to his lifelong companion and welcomes the morn.

He turns from the page and abandons the thoughts in his head
seeks out sustenance for all and so begins another perfect day.

© Fergus Martin

2012