Alison Hamilton Homepage

Poems from earlier years 1963 - 1997

I wrote my first poem "Tis but a fool" for a school friend in 1963. We were 18 at the time and were already experiencing the pain of unrequited love. Spasmodically I wrote more, particularly when I met Mike. Some are filled with sadness and longing, purely subjective. Some are more objective, but all reflect my feelings at a particular moment of time. This is me, this is who I am.

Tis but a fool

Tis but a fool to share

A love with naught but care

to wander in a land of tears

a barren land of wasted years

where grows a plant whose shoots are green

whose tenderness our fool has seen and loves.

for in that dry and parched land

amid the coarseness of the sand

that plant is nourished by a power

which god hath given from the hour when it was born.

our fool must leave the trespassed land

and turn away the sodden sand

to leave the plant to grow alone

amid the rock face and the stone

and learn that joy will come again to our poor fool.

love in a hot climate

heat flies sand

couples holding hands

under palm leaves

and heat.

heat cocoa pear

girls with streaming hair

babies bathing naked

in rock pools

and heat.

heat crabs snakes

swarming stagnant lakes

couples talking softly on beaches

and heat.

infant solitude

the birds twitter

the sun reluctantly prepares to retire

and the joy-filled day-filled flowers

curl slowly to rest as dusk approaches

adults far, far at the end of the garden dig

and i, nose pressed against pane wait lone lone lonely

i do not like the long light evenings

i long for the soft security of log fire curtains drawn

and the noise of people talking, laughing in the close community of a cosy room

adults dig, making the most of summer

soon i shall lie in my bed

and curtains will not prevent the waft of adult voices from the garden

i make pictures of the clouds floating like gondolas across the sky

each is an island remote, obscure

impossible for human penetration

and i,in mybed,

want to hide away from the presence of summer evenings

adults digging, sun-setting infant solitude

peter pan

A girl with white socks and a bow in her hair

Walked with a ridiculous basket of fur

clutching the handle as if with obsession

That this was her one devoted possession.

A phrase termed extreme insecure adolescence

But they did not know in truth that the essence

was fear of adulthood, desire to stay young

With the turn to maturity harshly begun.

She accepted the presence of adult emotion

She rebelled against strict and placid convention.

They told her the time-gap would be of no length

She resolved to continue with invincible strength

To preserve the identities of incomplete youth

Each reproach to laugh at, each heartbreak to soothe

But she had to acknowledge the inevitable trend

That convention defeat her, resolution unbend.

Birth and Death

A little flower was born today In the field across the way he blossomed, smiled and opened wide His petals to the countryside. A little flower has died today The reason why, man cannot say He withered, wept and petals curled Turned away from the cruel hard world.

****************

hell, fire, pain

all in love are lain

loved,gentled, kissed

hard to resist

love? me? yes!

hell, fire, pain

hard to restrain

comforted, adored

must be assured

love? me? yes!

****************

hopelessness there is a moment in time recurring, returning in which lies the whole essence of hopelessness a blind inability to see the future a life endurable until death and in that moment, forever to come back from the ashes the phoenix of time plaguing our sense of reason dwells all the fear and doubt that thought can create foundless, yet present in that moment.

****************

Why?

Why is my heart filled with unexplained emotion?

What are these hot tears that mock my burning cheeks?

Why is my mouth dry with unspoken, desperate words

That make my heart beat and my pulse weak?

Could it be the torment of an unfulfilled frustration

The anguish of a heart filled with longing words of love

And could it be the pain of an untold devotion

A black smudge on the white wing of a cooing dove?

Yes! Tis all of these entwined in one emotion

The everlasting need to tell the reason for my tears.

Yet it shall remain concealed in my bosom

I shall never tell my secret though I may cry for years.

rooftop serenade

bride of the rooftops i sit

with the sun-blessed, gray slates of London

amid the aerials, chimneys black with urban dust

people far, far below hurry, scurry

or wander aimlessly in the monotony of existence

momentarily exalted by the heat of a fake summer

unsuspected, undetected in its sudden appearance from the clouds

usurping the throne of stormy days

so many people unaware, uncaring of my presence on the rooftop

and with all this below, above, around

sweeping the entirety of all creation into one god-loving, god-hating humanity

i harbour one thought, one love, one reason for living and dying

the presence, the breath, though far from me at this moment

the blessed birth of you.

****************

When loves lingering tears long wept And bitter sweet emotion In one whose heart so harshly hurt Desires such deep devotion....... Then love is not as was intended When two as one were sworn Another life and other loves Another friendship torn.

****************

Michael

A candle burns

And the wind rattles the ill-fitting window pane

And, tossing, turning on the tumbled bed

I call your name softly

Michael

Sometimes I do not need you

Sometimes I can enjoy my solitude

But tonight, in the darkness

There is an emptiness, a silence

Which makes my whole self cry out for your presence

The touch, the love of Michael

Sometimes I am not happy

Sometimes I cry

And want to die

And yet, when you are not here, your spirit lingers

Round every breath I take

Oh! How I wish you could be with me now

Michael

My mission

My spirit is free...let it soar

For this is the beginning of the rest of my life

Whatever grief, whatever strife, it starts today.

Selfishly, yet unselfishly, pursue my goals and develop every potential.

I have built my own limitations - question them

Give love to all around - let love abound.

Throw away the guilt of past mistakes for it could destroy the person I have become

Believe in myself - Ican do anything i want to do be anyone Iwant to be.

It's up to me.

Choose words carefully.

Do not disparage - no words that pain, for witless gain

Yet assert myself without fear of losing favour

My moral behaviour - faultless yet forgiving.

This is the beginning of a new end my spirit is free and will reach new heights and fresh delights

Let it soar!

menopause

when you're feeling cool and charming

it really is disarming

when you start to get a menopausal flush.

it starts with nervous tension

for which there's no prevention

then the sweating just descends in such a rush.

your moods are all distorted

and happiness is thwarted

and you wonder if this curse will ever end

now, we can start taking hormones

to stop our grumbles and our groans

and this treatment would appear to be the trend.

but i'd like to try and manage

without causing too much damage

to those i love and work with every day

but whenever i seem flustered

and my words are hot as mustard

it's just another flush that's on the way.

****************

Remember that our children are the product of our souls our hopes and fears, our smiles and tears, our failures and our goals. They have their own minds which we can only guide with tender love and kindness and overwhelming pride. When we react too harshly with punishment and blame we inflict on them the feelings of low self-worth and shame. And, while, with them, their happiness we share, they have to learn to cope with anger and despair. They're born as individuals and form a unique being And when we look at them, it's not ourselves we're seeing. For we do not own our children, they are not ours to keep. When distance comes between us, it is not time to weep. For memories will serve, as very wise man knows to remind us that our children are the product of our souls.

****************

From Woman to Man

I used to walk behind you

A ghostlike apparition

Believing that, to keep your love,

I had to demonstrate submission.

Now, by your side I complement

Your life as you do mine

As we in mutual partnership

Our goals and dreams combine.

****************

Music

What rapture it brings to the soul

Encompassing one's whole being in ecstasy

Usurping the pain and torment of life's trials

Energizing the body and fortifying the mind

In vibrating, orgasmic relief.

Or...gently stroking with featherweight touch

Bringing peace and indescribable tranquility

To the sadness of the world's tears

With melodious gentleness.

Ah! The sweetness of music!

Poems copyright Alison Hamilton 2001. All rights reserved