MOON OVER WALPOLE BAY

Twas the first day of autumn – on a Friday it came,

The call to say that nothing would ever be the same.

Already the sky was a dark sombre grey,

There was no moon rising over Walpole Bay.

 

Once they had lives, young spirits by the sea,

They danced in the ballrooms in true harmony.

Now they stay in their rooms – they can lay there all day,

They don’t see the moon at the top of the bay.

 

Can’t get out of my chair – no, don’t wash my hair,

Independence retracted – it’s so hard to bear.

I was very much in love; have the pictures of the day,

Hand in hand neath the moonlight at Walpole Bay.

 

Memories of the war, so vivid – so real,

But nothing much momentary; the magpies – they steal.

Imaginary phone calls, so much news to convey,

“Well I heard that the moon had just run away!”

 

Dementia is cloying, destroying with pain,

Its tentacles clawing the heart of the brain.

Creeping and crawling, surreptitious its way,

Darkening the moon over every damn bay.

 

Trying to escape – when I have, let me in,

I wonder what lives in the end we’d begin.

But once I was the sharpest – yes, back in the day,

When the moon was so vibrant at Walpole Bay.

 

So tell me what is not and what is surreal,

And what do you expect, how am I s’posed to feel?

Locked in my mind with my body as hay,

And the olde moon cryin’ at the crest of the bay.

 

And the constant beep beeping, screams and the wails,

This is what happens when the system fails…

We didn’t know why, but you begged us to stay,

With the moon turning red, sinking in to the bay.

 

The trickster is time, and you prophesized your fate,

To us in denial – who forever would wait.

But the kindness is letting go, what words left to say?

Cept “the full moon is shimmering on the waves of the bay.”

 

Black and white photographs – how perfect they seemed,

In the prime of their lifetimes, their hopes and their dreams.

When picnics and laughter and love held the sway,

And the moon did a tango at Walpole Bay.

 

Oh how I wish – we’d go back there and sing,

When life was much simpler and you still had your rings.

Remember the prom and the warm golden rays?

When at sunset the moonrise, lit up ALL the bays!

 

The history of that town, well it came and it passed,

And you took the summer – we knew it couldn’t last.

We loved you back then and we love you today,

And the moon still he quivers in that magical way.

 

I saw you last night – you were speaking to me,

A beautiful angel, liberated and free.

Knew it was a miracle, you said “Don’t worry, OK?”

“The moon’s glowing high in the sky ‘bove the bay.”

 

They say nothing’s forever, but on the timeline you stand,

One magnificent star with your man and the band.

Like a flower so radiant, always beautiful you’ll stay,

As the moon shines again over Walpole Bay.

  by Jayl De Lara - November 2019

      In memory of Betty Irene Glass (née Huxtable) – ‘Mum’ 1927 - 2019

                          JAYL TV - Moon Over Walpole Bay

COOL CAT

COOL CAT ö

Great to be alive – when I’m alive with you.

So magical true – my girl on the rail …

Swishing her tail on the ole timeline …

I says “Oh to be mine – all mine, all mine!”

With a swervy swerve and a curvy curve,

To ask that one out – well it took some nerve.

Such a silent soft paw – what you can’t hear, can’t ignore.

Just sexy pure class was my Nikola Glass.

Oh such a cool cat – she was sat on my lap,

Sapphire my desire – she loved playing with fire.

Twas a tiger on the tiles when I came to her nest,

Over mountains and miles – to be with the best.

I kissed her soft shoe – it was bluer than blue,

And we never said never – just together forever.

And like a couple of cats – all sweetness and bright,

We danced in the twilight – then went out into the night.

Jayl De Lara

For Niki - 7^th November 2017 Y 

Picture by www.chaseandwonder.com © 2017

BOBBY J CRUZ

On a hot September day in the way back when

When the study was the flow and the modern Zen.

When the music was rowing – a meandering stream,

When we lived like cats and dared to dream…

A knock on my door, unexpected I confess,

But a joy to behold, nevertheless.

For there on my threshold was a man with great shoes,

I says “Who are you Brother?” He says “Bobby J Cruz”.

We talked of bands and girls and song,

All the things that make the world young.

He loved his sport, the competitive race,

The breath of youth, the thrill of the chase…

I shook his hand and invited him in,

Asked him what his calling was, he says “I love to sing!”

“What dya’ like to sing man?” He answered “Rock ‘n Blues.”

He smiled like a black cat, now that was Bobby Cruz.

A true Adonis, but shy he was;

The most sensitive passion that ever there was.

But with the courage of a cobra he lifted up the mic,

Shaking on the wire, but coiled and ready to strike…

A Black Sabbath classic - he sung ‘After Forever’,

And I knew right at that moment, he’d never give up, ever!

For there in my studio, was a guy who chose to choose,

A heart and poet singer whose name was Bobby Cruz.

Many talk of going to LA,

But talk is cheap on the narrow way.

You have to be brave and get on the plane,

And strive to be the driver of the rattlin’ train …

But the man - he had the courage,

He knew there was nothing to lose,

He put his life right on the line,

Yes, that was Bobby Cruz.

Loved he was, Nathaniel born,

To a life that oft did hurt him and pour upon him scorn.

But he wasn’t deterred; he was tall and proud,

With the perfect blend of humble and loud.

Now he front’s a band at Vega – he sings ‘November Rain’,

He left us weeping very young, but he ‘Won’t get fooled again’.

His sun shines white; we miss his charm, but to us he’ll always be news,

We’re proud to say he was our friend - a star called Bobby Cruz.

Jayl De Lara - September 2016

Bobby J Cruz  1978 - 2016

THE ANCIENT PARISH OF RUARDEAN

There is a place beyond the pale, though the map was set to head for Wales, we came one day to live a dream; we were on the road to Ruardean.

Drawn to an Angel in the street, with a view of mountains and fields of wheat, we created many a magic scene, for we’d found ourselves in Ruardean.

Good people young, good people old; carnivals and fairs,

Tradition, culture, unruly sheep, and no talk at all of bears.

Oaks and owls, the cleanest spring; fine gardens gold and green,

We must have found the ancient parish of good ole’ Ruardean.

We’ll sail the seas in salty air and trust in God and winds,

But we’ll hear the whisper of the giant pines, where the bell of the old church sings.

We’ll remember the days on forest tracks; the places where ghosts have been ...

For a part of our hearts and souls will dwell – forever in Ruardean.

JONNY HOLDER

When they’re dishing out jobs in heaven, our man will be in line …

But he ain’t gonna be no angel, or the keeper of the time.

He’s not gonna be the janitor, or the guy who makes the tea,

And he ain’t gonna be nobody’s bitch, he’ll always be running free.

He’ll be setting up the cameras, and creating clever toys,

Whilst telling stories and cracking jokes and smoking with the boys.

So when the Good Lord calls up Gabriel and says, “I need a surveillance man.”

Gabriel will say, “Who can do that job? …. I know just the man who can!”

When they’re playing games in heaven, our man will be right there …

Loving every minute, without a sorrow or a care.

He’ll have the biggest gas gun and the meanest fastest car,

He’ll be rippin’ up heaven’s highways, to beyond the farthest far.

He’ll be dancing with the children and making them all laugh,

Happy to be the gentle giant, hilarious and daft.

So when the Lord calls up and says, “We’re having a party! …. Gabriel, who’d ya recommend?”

Gabriel will say, “God, look no further … for Jonny I will send!”

If a war breaks out in heaven, our man won’t shy away …

He’ll be fighting like a ‘bad arse’; the demons he will slay.

Brave in face with his drum n’ bass ... the rumble will shake the clouds,

Never before will heaven have heard the music played so loud!

He’ll be strong as an ox and wily as a fox and he’ll be the biggest shoulder.

The girls will love him, he’ll always deliver and he’ll never grow no older.

So when the Lord he calls up Gabriel and says, “I need someone who’s bolder.”

Gabriel will say, “I know just the man … His name is Jonny Holder!”

 Jayl De Lara 

30^th April 2015

Lived fast, died young .... God Bless you Jon

QUEEN OF THE NIGHT

QUEEN OF THE NIGHT

We have heard it said: the most beautiful flower in all the world is the Hylocereus – Queen of the Night.

For one night only, on a full moon lonely …

A great white beauty swoons – magnificence beyond all blooms …

A flower to take your breath away – that’s gone again before the day.

We have also heard it said: the most beautiful flower in all the world is the Nikolasola – Queen of the Lake.

For one night in spring, on a full moon with rings …

Her golden petals open – you can hold your breath and touch …

A silky glow so dazzling it can freeze the light … and cast a shadow on the Queen of the Night …

A flower to take your breath away – that’s gone again before the day.

Hylocereus *(hy-lo-cereus)

Nikolasola *(nik-ohla-sola)  

  Jayl De Lara - Feb 14^th 2015 (Valentine’s Day 4 Niki)

                                        

THE LOOK OF LIFE

“Hush!” ‘Tis You – The Look of Life.

Angel of mercy, I undress you with my dreams.

From unseen sparkling source,

The birthplace of the force.

Photo by Dave Bushell ©

In trickle from the freshest melt,

Your hip, my lip, the feel of felt.

Felt deep beneath the soft and core,

Just wanting, yearning for more and more.

So I’ll meet you at the old stone bridge,

On the path beyond the wooded ridge,

Where primrose, yellow – festoon the ground,

While the snowdrops turn to dew.

Caterpillars to the moths – the moths to light.

Light 4 room – where your naked silhouette doth breathless curve,

To turn me on and even tempt the shadows,

That before were trapped in time.

In ice and rain the same,

My love is washed thru you again.

We walk in the same spirit, you and I,

In truths yet undiscovered - by none but you and I.

Harmonious yet in sorrow, for those beneath the morrow.

For time and tricks dance hand in hand, like toes a twinklin’ in the sand.

The poet’s realm inside you - Inside you, oh to be!

In synergy, in energy, in romance, in a play - to kiss you for a day.

Hope and love - the keys to the tower,

The magic folly where all girls flower,

Whiter than snow, sexy skin a-glow,

Your brown eyes turn me inside out…

I’m an eagle then a bat, from a monster to a cat,

I come to make you purr!

With sounds to soothe the viper wind - for here now comes the spring.

And the spring can bring just anything!

Thru winter the church bell chimed the hour,

Now breathe the scent of the lemon flower.

The scent of a woman – delicious, sooo lush…

‘Tis the scent of you, so “Hush!”

Jayl De Lara