The Wherry

Tall sails drifting through the landscape,
tacking to and fro, catching the wind.
Passing wind powered water pumps,
draining the land, feeding the river.
Carrying goods to town and city,
these masters of the inland waterway.

Such a sight it must have been,
now used for our simple pleasures.
The workhorse of the Norfolk Broads,
resting on it’s laurels in the morning breeze.
Waiting to tempt you out into the day,
offering sights only found on the water.

Restored and rebuilt, they sail on
into the sunset of a long Broadland day.
A sight once seen never forgotten among the fields and trees,
this working boat of the hard landsman.
Gliding by wind pump and tower,
she sails on evermore, a rare sight to see.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Before I Sleep

The candles burn on, casting long shadows
in a now empty room where we once sat.
Relaxing on the sofa I think back over the evening,
cooking our meal together in the kitchen, laughing.
Me learning new ideas about my food,
you smiling as I fumble through the recipes.

Talking as we ate, the food exciting and new.
Candlelight flickered over our faces as we laughed,
talking about our interests and little observations.
We talked late into the night, then you had to leave.
Darkness fighting the candles as I sit reminiscing,
absorbing the aura of the evening before I sleep.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

The Fisherman

Sitting on the beach watching the fisherman
casting their nets, hoping for a catch of the day.
Dreaming of a time when I am ready
to buy my own boat and nets to go fishing.
Equipment is important, as is experience out at sea,
you cannot hope to catch a fish without either.
I spend my days researching the best boats and nets,
watching the fishermen everyday, learning their skills.

The time eventually came when I bought a boat,
my nets were second-hand but in good order.
I spent my days dreaming of that big catch,
casting my nets to no avail, going hungry.
Still I dreamt of the good times ahead,
catching the one that would sustain my life.
Then out of the deep blue sea I caught my fish,
it came in easily, bringing much needed life.

After such a fine catch, I considered myself complete.
I forgot about my boat and nets, not thinking of the future.
They lay abandoned on the beach, bleaching in the sun
as I gorged myself on this wondrous bounty I had snared.
I thought this fish would last me a lifetime,
never thinking that the sustenance would run out.
Run out it did, now I find myself back on the beach,
repairing my nets, patching holes in my boat.

As I carry out my repairs, I look out to sea
watching the fishermen casting their nets once again.
I realise I am still so inexperienced as a fisherman,
having caught just one fish in all my life.
Needing to learn to cast my nets more efficiently,
spending more time assessing the other fishermen’s tactics.
Some seem careless, casting their nets hither and thither,
others seem more careful, waiting for tide and light.

Once again I am ready to go fishing,
to catch the fish of my dreams, sustain myself.
Will I do the same as before? Catch my fish,
abandoning my boat and nets, probably!
Greedy is not how I would describe myself,
one fish at a time is ample sustenance for me.
I do not fish for more when I have fish in my basket,
so I’ll sit in my boat, casting my nets, dreaming.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Boy On Step

 

Dad said we would go today,
we would visit mum today.
Dad promised we would go yesterday too.
We didn’t go!
Dad sits crying but he wont tell me why.
He has sat crying for three days.
Everyday he says we’ll go and see mum.

Friends come round, sitting with dad,
they all give him a hug
and I get one too.
They all leave with tears in their eyes
looking at me,
ladies giving me big sloppy kisses.
I just want my mum!

Dad says we might not see mum anymore!
Where is she?
She was in hospital the other day,
she laughed and joked with me
but she was crying.
I asked her why she was crying
and dad brought me home.

Three days since I saw my mum.
She cooks better than dad.
He doesn’t bake cakes or anything!
I’m just going to sit on this step
until mum comes home!
I love my dad but,
I want my mum.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Lonely People

 

People sitting alone on the bus,
in the park, in the cinema, at home.
They wait for a life to arrive,
alone with no one to think of them.
Why are so many people alone,
when they could be sharing their life?

Some are alone through choice,
healing from a relationship breakdown.
Some are ready to start anew,
looking for that perfect someone.
Some are waiting for that first love,
with all the excitement that entails
Some are simply alone,
living a life, not prepared to share.

Others are where they are
through no choice of their own.
A partner passed away
through illness, accident, age.
Left behind to pick up the pieces
of two lives tragically become one.

You see these faces every day,
some searching faces for a sign.
You see a yearning in their eyes,
a yearning that perhaps, they see the one
We all do it, looking into lonely eyes,
searching for a smile in return.
We are alone in our bodies, always.
We have the desire to share the worldly.

We may have been hurt,
abandoned by our previous love.
We all have it within us to love,
or love again if necessary.
To share your life is such a gift,
bringing hope and laughter as you share.

So be brave when eyes are searching yours,
smile back with your best smile.
Eyes glinting in the sunlight
may bring something more than love.
Respect, friendship, companionship
are just as important, if not more.
The next time I see your eyes,
I will smile, hoping you smile back.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Sleep!

Sleep!

Where are you on this long dark night?
I lay here waiting for your arrival.
My body needs you to help aid it’s recovery,
my mind in desperate need of rest, whirls!

I toss and turn, thinking how tired I am,
minutes tick by, lasting hours.
I hate nights like this, they come in sequences
which means I’ll have more restless nights to come.

Now I sit here, asking in words, where are you?
I need to find your blissful state.
Perhaps now these words are on the page,
you’ll come and put my mind at rest.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

The Path

Lined by forest trees, as if on guard,
the path leads ever on into the distance.
Sunlight only between the noon hours,
else dappled is the light that falls.
Shadows follow every footstep, every mile.
Sounds of nature all around, creatures unseen.

The track is a well trodden trough,
worn deep by those that went before.
On either side long grass offers resting places
for the weary travellers who chose this way.
Yet rarely is the grass flattened
by those that took up this resplendent offer.

Phantoms of travellers that went before,
drifting by as if carried on the air.
Their faces turned toward their goal,
walking silently, heads held high.
Those that decide to walk this way,
walk alone, no aid or comfort carried.

They do not walk on a pilgrimage,
this way is a choice for life, taken freely.
Discarded are the burdens of wealth,
replaced by the freedoms of choice.
Free from the troubles of man
and his religions, loves and hates.

Anyone can take the path if they so choose,
there are no restrictions, rules of entry.
To walk freely without woes,
to be free of unkindness, cruelty.
Be consumed by one overwhelming passion,
to never reach the end, and walk forever.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Waiting

The appointed time had arrived,

I stood waiting.

Would I recognise you from the photo,

people passed by.

There you were, walking towards me,

not recognising me.

My photo must either be very bad,

or not representative.

Holding my breath, I walk towards you,

saying your name as I close in.

You look to me, smiling, grateful to see me,

you were not stood up.

We talk hurriedly, where should we go?

A café around the corner.

Our chatter slows down, we scrutinise,

giving each other a once over.

We walk towards the café, talking nothings,

are you as nervous as me?

We enter, find a table and get served our coffees,

we look at each other.

The talking starts, we talk and talk,

like long lost friends.

Our hour passes all to quickly,

I want more.

We leave the café agreeing to contact,

swapping numbers.

Now here I sit, do I call you so soon?

It was only this morning.

I want to talk and talk like we did today,

already I miss you.

I email you, now I await your reply,

waiting!

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Another day goes by

Another day goes by,
another day in my life forever lost.
So many days have gone this way,
leaving me with a sense of waste.
As I near a half century in years,
those lost days count ever higher.

Am I to leave this realm,
never knowing why it was like this?
I am lucky, I can read, write,
communicate with an audience.
There is a pleasure in that for me.
A satisfaction of reaching others.

If I am lucky, I have a third of my life left.
What to do with that time I am unsure.
I could read myself into oblivion,
for what purpose? Self gratification?
I could write my thoughts for all to see,
a lasting legacy that might live on?

I have no wish to make you despair,
I am not in a maudlin mood.
There are things I want to do (see),
people I would like to meet (love).
But I need to find a purpose,
one that feeds the hunger.

Today I add to my legacy,
more lines from the rhythms of my mind.
Undulating, like the Norfolk countryside
I have made my home.
I share my life with you this way
because I have nothing else to give.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

If I were younger

If I were younger,

I could not want you more than I do now.

My desire would be just as overwhelming.

I love the way you play with your hair.

Tugging at it gently as we talk,

Twisted between your fingers, selfconsciously.

Your smile lights up the room,

I can't help but smile with you.

How I wish the day would never end.

We talk, open and honestly.

We are so comfortable together.

Easy with each other, relaxed.

I'm glad I met you,

I would not change a thing.

I am so lucky; you are a friend.

So, I am happy with who we are,

When we met and in an odd way,

I am so glad I am not younger

because we would not be who we are now.

We could not be honest and open,

You might reject. I might disappoint,

Your friendship I cherish,

I could not suffer it's loss.

You are in my heart,

There you will stay until it beats no more.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Misty Morning

Early morning mist casts an eerie spell

dawns early light diffused in vapour

Faerie kisses on the early spring grass

Spiders webs glisten in the hedgerow

Birdsong all around, nature is awake

welcoming the dawn of a new day.

A walker appears through the mist.

A dog trotting ahead, nose high,

leaving paw prints in the wet grass.

The first of many to go this way,

along the riverbank, enjoying life.

Taking in the splendour of the morn.

The river calm in the morning mist.

Rowers sliding their way upstream,

disturbing water fowl as they glide by.

Crews practising for that strenuous day

when they face other boats in competition.

Gentle wakes reach the shore and lap.

Fishermen cast their lines out into the water.

Floats bobbing on the flow, drifting.

A float sinks, a fish is snagged,

reeled in, fighting all the way.

To be weighed and placed in the net,

finally to be set free and caught again.

The sun climbs, the mist evaporates.

Joggers are seen in the distance.

Cyclists glide by on the tow path.

Pleasure craft move in the water,

water fowl disturbed once again

fly into the warm air, squawking.

A lone cormorant keeps vigil

from a derelict post in the water.

Looking deep into the dark fluid,

watching for breakfast within the flow.

It stretches it's wings in anticipation

of that dive into the water, plunging.

And so the riverbank comes alive

bringing life and pleasure to all.

Some are here to escape their lives

others are here because of life.

All are here to feel the oneness

that the riverbank offers us all.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

I Am Your Candle

A delicate light comes forth

small yet shapely and defined.

Barely enough to read by

casting long shadows over the page.

'Twas a time when this gallant flame,

oversaw treason and treachery.

It offers seductive splendour,

befitting lovers entwined on a rug.

Extinguished with a breath

it brings strength in the dark.

Not enough to heat a meal,

yet strong enough to melt hearts.

Gifting light when most needed,

imparting spirituality where none exist.

I see your soul through pupils reflection,

I bring warmth to all that wish to look.

For I am the light your heart desires,

I am your candle when you need light most.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Long Night

Another day reaches it's climax,

darkness shrouds the skyline.

Stars glitter within the dark blanket

Light pollution hides other sights.

Light filters through gaps in the curtains,

proving life goes on when we sleep.

Electricity burned throughout the night,

offering sanctuary from the dark.

The uneaten apple sits on the table

testament to a hunger unfulfilled.

It reflects the artificial light, reddened.

Full of promise, it stays untouched.

Cold coffee stagnates in the mug

resting aside the uneaten apple.

Another sign of desires left discarded,

abandoned to decay in the night.

Shadows fall on common objects,

offering different views to tired eyes.

Shapes unrecognisable yet familiar,

bring different life to the room.

Spectres on the edge of vision,

creep across the room, ghostly.

Headlights travel down the street,

cutting through the gloom of night.

Red eyes stare from one corner,

electric entertainment on standby.

Waiting for light and life to return,

bringing meaning to the room again.

My slow breathing the only sound,

as I sit on the sofa, watching the night.

I think of things to come, things passed,

The night goes on, seconds tick by.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

My request is simple, my desire selfish

I would love some peace and quiet

Nothing from the outside getting in

Nothing inside but me, my noises.

No distractions but those I desire

I never thought I would want these things

I would like to live my life the way I want

Without fear of interruption or questioning.

There is always a background

Always a noise distilling into my thoughts.

Never a moment without demands!

Always there is more to answer to.

To be in the fields or among trees

Soaking up sunshine, listening to nature

Watching birds flit from tree to bush

Butterflies floating by on the breeze.

These are the sights and sounds I need

To be free and allowed to be me.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

I simply am

When all around is calm
and life makes it’s leisurely way
through the thoughts in my mind.
I get to a point where I don’t even think,
I simply am!

The day passes, sunlight and clouds,
reflecting the memories recalled.
Of people I once knew,
of places I once belonged
A life lived!

Looking forward to new people,
new places and memories.
The sun shines on these happy thoughts
bringing hope where once lived none
A life to live.

©2011 Trevor Litchfield

Leap of Faith

Leap of Faith first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on Thursday 3rd March 2011

Once more I ride into the unknown,
Taking that leap of faith into fates future.
There may be thousands watching,
All I hear is my heart beating in the silence of my head
Will this be the time it all goes wrong?
Will I emerge as a burnt cinder?
Will the crowd go wild before they see my death?

The flames are lit.
I start down the slope,
I know the journey I’m taking is short.
The journey is worth a lifetime of thoughts,
I see the target up ahead.
I concentrate on getting the speed right
This feels as good as all the others
The wheels turn ever faster.
I feel elation as the ramp turns up,
A leap of faith is all I require,
To see you on the other side.

©Trevor Litchfield

Castle In The Sky

Castle In The Sky first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 21st 2011

You go to where the moon floats high in the sky.
A place where the sun never sets.
The gentle breeze flows through the mind,
like feathers touching skin.
Stirring thoughts of places we never knew,
other than through our minds eye.
Physical boundaries move with the gossamer,
never to inhibit, yet protecting as required.

When thirst visits our bodies,
warm rain falls, gathering in lucid pools
to slake the driest of throats.
Hunger is satisfied by natures bounty,
flourishing in sensual glades.

Thoughts of life filter into my mind,
bringing all humanity into focus.
There is peace within these walls,
turmoil abounds beyond.
The sun beats down, never harshly,
warming the surrounding skin.
One day soon, I hope to join you there,
I know you are waiting whilst I find the path.

©Trevor Litchfield

Quiet Sunday Morning

Quiet Sunday Morning first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 19th 2011

Quite Sunday morning, roads clean after an early morning shower.
Steam rises from heating vents as automation comes alive
Resting souls taking extra slumber after their efforts of the week
All is quiet apart from the sounds of nature that is the dawn chorus

All humanity hides behind this tranquil scene, rejuvenating
Smells of bacon being cooked by early morning risers
drift by in the early morning breeze, waking other senses
Vision, smell and hearing taking in all there is to offer

Dog walkers are few but they walk with smiles on faces
Their companions sniffing and snuffling for signs of those ahead
My heart aches to rejoin, to take my place in life once again
A new day takes shape as I eavesdrop on the world, separated.

©Trevor Litchfield

How do I express myself when words fail me?

How do I express myself when words fail me? first appeared on Trev's Telautograph on February 12th 2011

How do I express myself when words fail me?
Life feels like it's passing me by yet days are full,
Friends call to drink tea and talk about their day
Other friends reply in support of my writing.
I should feel fulfilled with such wonderful people in my life

Chores are completed as if by rote, habit.
I read, I write, I attempt to be creative
Yet nothing brings satisfaction or direction.
Desires are dulled as if submerged in deep waters.
In my eyes I fail dismally to attain a life.

In search of this life I consider where I'm failing
Which only brings on more despair, money is the master.
I have no job, I apply for them daily
Two years I've applied yet interviews are rare
Is it my age, my appearance, my demeanour?

Oh I can fill the days with meaningless tasks
In fact I wonder at times where I would find the time
to fit in the hours required to be employed.
Are my days this meaningless or is my thought process awry
I'm asking you dear friend yet answers should come from within.

©Trevor Litchfield

Blue Eyes

I want to say “Hello, you look fantastic!”

My mouth stays shut

Mind all a blur of the things I wanted to say to you.

I drink in your beauty, hair tumbling over shoulders

Eyes alive with vitality and life.

Lips slightly parted, smiling

Perhaps in preparation to reply

You even stop listening to your iPod as you pass

Removing the headset, smiling at me

Do you really want me to say those words?

I can't stop thinking about you!

Yet that moment was but fleeting

I keep walking down that street in my mind

I keep reliving those seconds as you walk by

Turning to watch you walk away

There was no one else in the street

You were looking at me as I was looking at you

You replace the headset and turn on your iPod

I stand staring as you round the corner

Hair moving in the breeze

Leaving me stranded

In a place I know all to well.

©Trevor Litchfield