Cosy

Some poems by Joan Hughes

Joan Hughes on the Computer
Joan Hughes on Science
Joan Hughes on Joan Hughes

 
The thinking cat

Little cat, I look into your cool, green eyes
And wonder what is in your silent mind
Not speaking aloud, but by your active paws
Your body language leaves human thought behind.

click on the thinking cat 
to visit another of Joan's activities

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Autumn leaves

Autumn leaves dappling the green
To clear them up and make things tidy
Destroys the brilliance of varied colours
And the crackle as we crunch them idly

Outside St. Andrew's Church
It was pleasant to lurk
In autumn on the way to school
Stirring leaves - avoiding work.

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Sounds

There is a rustling of nylon from my slacks
There is a click when lights go on
There is the sound of feet on pavements
Sounds not heard for ages and ages

The sound has come back with a rush
The telephone rings- I can hear it
The door bell is as loud as drills
The traffic makes an almighty roar

The computer makes a soft hissing
There is a dog barking outside
Feet are walking over the floor
My ears are once more open wide.

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Silent World

Silence they say is golden
Not when it's enforced
Let me hear again the birdsong
And the barking of dogs
Students chattering over tea
Rustling of leaves in the wind

Glad that my sojourn is temporary
In this eerie muffled silent world
Soon the sound will break through again
I may grumble about noise
That irritates and deafens
But I value the variety
The music sweet and unending
Of the ordinary humdrum world

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The news

Pictures in confusion on my walls
Paper from the table falls
Dash from the kitchen telephone calls
Over the fence children's balls

Feeling sad something galls
Being lost in shopping malls
Neglected in empty halls
Every entertainment palls

A broken reed amidst windy squalls
While all about are violent brawls
The news is often what appalls
Overturned and broken stalls

A ray of light the hunter-killers broken
The navy should accept this token
Abandon nuclear weapons now
Do not before this false god bow.

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click 
to visit another of Joan's activities Leaflets

Handing leaflets out
No, don't shout, don't shout
Press gently into hand
They'll read what it is about

Near the Foreign Office each Monday
On the dark street corner stand
Light a candle in the gloom
Put a leaflet into hand

Sunset over St. James Park
Our work is just about to start
On the darkling streets we dance
Let the children live - have a heart

A glimmer of light - a trickle of hope
The sanctions are dying - Iraq will revive
Her children will live and take part
In world trade and remain alive

Handing leaflets out
No, don't shout - don't shout
Press gently into hand
They'll read what it is about

click 
to read about different kinds of law


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Robin alone

I've seen a robin today
Pecking the ground
Where worms abound
While the frost abates
It has time for play
But where have all the sparrows gone?
They have left us so long alone

I've seen a starling today
With feathers puffed out
No worms to pull out
From the frozen earth
So it soon goes away
But where have all the sparrows gone?
They have left us so long alone

I've seen a blackbird today
Sitting on a bare branch
In the twig it may find lunch
Or perhaps eat some withered fruit
So it delves and scratches away
But where have all the sparrows gone?
They have left us so long alone

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Gulls

There are few gulls left on Clapton Pond
They are lovely, reminding me of childhood
Their shrill shrieking cries thrill me
Stay longer gulls, if you would.

One coot has returned to float about
On Clapton Pond- will there be a nest
Of grey, open-throated chicks with red noses?
While parents search for food they serenely rest.

Come back again coots this year
Please build your nest here
Later you'll wander away
Seemingly without a care

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Rough Garden

The blackbird and the starling and the pigeon
Have come together to visit my garden
The frost is gone so they'll find some pickings
In ground that's soaking like a thawing fen

Brambles entwine with woody nightshade
Everything looks and feels almost dead
No butterflies in his cold weather
But there remains buddleia's seed-head

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Theory of Everything

What are these superstrings?
They say each particle vibrates
To make very small differences
Which represents its quantum states

Radio Four then switched to hymns
The same meaning to these is lent
God alone can comprehend the whole
He alone is omniscient.

Long ago Mother Julian said
God told her the world was contained
Within the size of a small walnut
And with God's love maintained

They did not know about the Big Bang
Of which our scientists speak
But their images resemble ours
God reveals it those who seek.

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Angel's Music

Persistently I walked
Along a dusty road,
And did not pause.
Thirst was the goad.

A man had offered
A glass of lemonade,
A lift by car.
I refused this aid.

I had to go alone.
Was this a penance?
Or was it a fad?
Or was it a dance?

No people thereabouts:
No houses either;
No sheep, no dogs:
Just hot weather.

A lonely gravel track
And the sweltering sun.
Three miles to walk.
What had I done?

In a strange country,
As quiet as a mouse,
Walking back to my room
In an empty house

Then came a song
Too beautiful for any voice
From a man or woman.
It was the angels-rejoice.

It was a hymn to Mary,
But never sung in church.
It was a free gift,
Never found by search.

I doubted the angels.
Was there a gramophone?
But this could not be -
For I was quite alone.

The nearest house
Was far away
Beyond a field.
What could I say?

The music was loud,
But not instrumental.
It was right next to me.
So loud, but so gentle.

So I was not alone:
An angel walked with me.
When I got home,
A friend waited with tea.

I sat in her room.
The angel sang again,
Quite softly this time,
And gently like rain.

Did you hear that?
To her I whispered.
No it was not a record?
It was the angels we've heard.

I had doubted the angels:
Then the song was renewed.
"I can hear the angels," I said.
For both of us this was good.

That song
Remains with me:
An unearthly music,
Which is also with you.


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catpussy cat pussy cat Take another break pussy catpussy
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catpussy cat Eurhythmy - Therapeutic Rhythms pussy catpussy
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If you think that I you have caught within a maze: Be amazed. You too could be a poem and escape. Whatever life's tricks, and, wherever you roam, you are never far from home

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Andrew Roberts likes to hear from users: To contact him, or to pass on a message to Joan Hughes, please use the Communication Form

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The poems on this page were all written by Joan Hughes. They are copyright Joan Hughes, but you are welcome to reproduce on a non-profit basis, providing her name is attached.