LOULOU
Green marbled eyes
your whiskers emerge from
black points.
I can see the reflexion of
the window behind me in
your eyes which look at me
pleading or loving.
you dip your paw into my mug of milk
and like corned beef.
17 years my friend, we have been together,
never a cross word, never a scratched chair
Loulou, sweet, saintly Loulou
persecutated by the brutal Max
jealous of your calm and joyful ease.
Loulou if cats could be saints
You would win the crown.
Copyright L. Ivison 2025
9th September 2025
This light, this light at 11.01 a.m.
shines through the stained glass windows
and hits these flagstones, here and there
and over there, 45 degrees. sharp light
momentary sunlight. When was the last time
you shone so? Last year, the 9th of September?
but no. was the sun shining?
how many times in 1,000 years have
you shone on these same stones at this hour?
who would know how many 9ths of September were sunny?
Streams of light, unnoticed on these warn flagstones
you have reappeared today, mysteriously,
momentarily, silently, warmly.
Copyright L. Ivison 2025
The bells are ringing 'Dang, ding, ding,ding,ding, Dang'
The death knell.
the deep shadows of the church
are the death knell of summer
they are silent and creep
mysterious, hidden, ignored.
you cannot ignore the deathknell
it harkens, it is calling,
everyone of us, as we scuttle
through the chilly streets.
tedious daily tasks call us
forgetting everyone
that one day that same bell
will ring for us
when our work is done
Copyright L.Ivison 2025
1st September
Welcome. Month of dark shadows
blinding sharp sunlight
puddles and reflections;
month declaring the beginning of
the end of another year
the earth tips on its axis
hurtling towards winter.
welcome breathes of sweet cool air
twisting brambles, blackberries
first fires, and ghostly mist
tree bending gusts of wind
dead leaves dancing.
i too am in my autumn
but summer sun shines in
my heart
ready now for my depart.
Adieu August
August still thinks she is summer
stuffy, heavy air covering dusty roads
but high corn and dying trees give
her game away.
we're tired of you August, tired of
your too long days, of too much green
of too many greens
spoilt for choice, no storms just sluggish air.
you try to hide your aging face under this heat
but look, look at the brown leaves,
the already fallen, tokens of your old age.
you think your reign has not ended
but what is that condensation on
morning windows?
Yes, summer, cackling tourists, open window
and music blaring, ugly clothes, buckets and spades
Yes, summer, your time is up.
Now sweet autumn has arrived
sharp air, curtains pulled against early dusk
first nightly fires, the windows close
one by one - as surly summer goes.
30 August 2025
Did I remember yesterday's rain?
only by the puddles
the sky now is divided, half sun
half cloud, no umbrellas echoing
drilling rain now given way to reflectioned sky
once more we hear the seagulls cry,
for when it rains they need not sigh
heaven\s tears fill our eyes
a sunny sky brings more grief
knowing thatour life is brief.
how do I know that it is 4.40 p.m.?
i sense it, know it even
as I know tired August leads us
to glorious September
the month of twisting brambles
red berries/
we say goodbye to the swallows
who know too that winter beckons
with its cold and frozen hands
'come' 'come I invite you to
the earth's death'
but even foolish winter knows
it holds no lasting power
and that blasted by hail and snow
heaven's fingers will tease the
snowdrop from winters grip.
But we are weary Lord
dusty summer all too green
let the leaves fall in flurries
let the winds blast
let the seas storm
Blow away the tedious levity
of summer beaches
long light evenings where no shade
hides me from this hostile world
o bring back the mistletoe
in naked trees
the long dark nights
where candles burn
shut out the sun
enclose me in Your warm embrace
alone, with You, to end my race.
Amen copyright L. Ivison 2025
