Poems from the Journal
of Douglas Munday
All works on these pages protected by copyright.
           © 2009 Douglas Munday    all rights reserved
The House on the Water

More than a house, a lovely home 
with rooms soft lit by sunset's kiss, 
So peaceful when at set of eve 
unruly day takes final leave 
to grant an hour where I can be 
with just my thoughts for company. 

And faint the lap of water's edge 
that lulls the mind to gentle rhyme, 
and time in hand, I mused upon 
the glorious and countless ways 
God gave of so much time and love 
to the vast and endless vault above. 

I thought it was perhaps to teach 
how far his hand can truly reach; 
of how creation came to be ~ 
Each star a gift so we might see 
beyond all that we think we know, 
to where one day our steps must go. 

One star shone brightest to my eye 
amongst the millions in the sky, 
It filled my vision, spoke to me, 
told all was well, and all would be; 
that he will grant us evermore, 
safe haven to a different shore. 

And by the pale of fading sun 
this poem was born, this day was done. 
for I knew that single distant star 
which shone so brightly from afar 
was truly heaven's firmament ; 
And in whose image it was sent. 
A Morning Walk
Bracelet Bay on the Gower Coast
Shadows slip away, bowing out 
in deference, as the sun paints 
new day early colours 
on the ancient limestone cliffs. 

I wander slowly, for there is 
no particular hurry; And the sand kicks, 
warm and shape shifting beneath my feet 
as I listen to the silence, and feel the 
sea wind's gentle spray cool me 
with playful caress. 

It is as the touch of a lover, 
intoxicating, yet undefinable 
by any words I know; 
An exquisite delight 
that brings alive my every sense 
and reminds me I am as one 
with Mother Nature herself. 
If Time Stood Still
If for a time the world stood still 
and all the moments of the day 
were gathered in; 
which would I choose? 

Would it be rise of early sun 
that sups the chaliced morning dew, 
mayhap a sparrow's gleeful song 
when first he spies the early worm. 
Or the look held in a lover's eye 
when stirred awake with tender kiss, 
and the smile, that granted in reply 
says more in silence than in speech. 

But none is richer than the whole, 
the sum of parts that form each day. 
Made up of every thought and dream, 
all precious moments, locked away. 

And thus I give this choice to you: 

That if one moment could be caught, 
made captive with the artist's brush 
for evermore, 
Tell me - which would you choose? 
To An English Garden

Snow, like a newly washed blanket 
thrown careless over my garden. 
Instant perfection in the unattended 
disarray of the long dull winter months. 

And gazing from a frost patterned window 
I can see the first brave shoots of spring, 
fragile beacons of colour, reaching 
for the pale yellow of a lazily rising sun. 

And how sweet those delicately 
arranged flowers of early springtime. 
Jewels beyond price that bewitch the senses 
as they sparkle against earth's bare brown skin. 

How glorious the sight; and how uplifting 
to the soul; to know that in every garden 
and in every corner of this beautiful planet, 
the bloom of new life will rise eternal.

Photograph © Wunderground

In the Eye of the Beholder 

A scientist would say; A rainbow 
is a simple meteorological phenomenon 
caused by the fundamental process 
of refraction, and as such, does not 
exist in any particular location. 

And I say; In my world, 'Tis God 
playing hide and seek with his children, 
as he shows us how beautifully 
he can paint the sky.