Step into the Rainbow, Colin R Brookfield [top 10 most read books in the world .txt] 📗
- Author: Colin R Brookfield
Book online «Step into the Rainbow, Colin R Brookfield [top 10 most read books in the world .txt] 📗». Author Colin R Brookfield
so he paddled onwards,
it seemed like evermore.
At last luck interceded,
a dredger lay ahead
and from it lay a walkway
across the muddy bed.
Then closing on the dredger,
a porthole came in sight,
a man was sleeping in a chair
beneath a swinging light.
The little boat collided
with a mighty crash,
the man leapt up in panic,
the two boys made their dash.
Four happy feet were grateful
to be on something firm,
though once you get your ‘sea-legs’
it’s not easy to unlearn.
Luck had made their ‘land-fall’
upon the Isle of Grain,
for open seas were waiting
beyond this last terrain.
Jimmy took a gamble,
returning to his place
though he didn’t get a hiding,
they kept him in disgrace.
Strange, they never asked him
how he’d spent his time,
so it stayed a lifetime secret
‘till it came out in this rhyme.
Polar Seasons
Autumns, Winters, Springs and Summers,
capricious seasons of the mind,
would that one could banish
Polar seasons of this kind.
Arcane Vibes
The wind plays its strains
in the trees and the reeds
and its pulse ripples down
for unknowable needs.
But are we not reeds
though not to the breezes,
do we dance to a tune
and not know who it pleases?
Are there arcane vibes
that are all played together
and the reeds that we are,
need but one that will tether?
Does it play you a mood
and a wish to be freed
that perhaps is a spur
for retuning the reed?
And thus to be touched
by a sound that had winged
from the chord a celestial
harpist had stringed.
An ‘Other Worldly’ Encounter
A voice was on the night air rung
and spoken in the Siamese tongue,
Its sound upon the quietness broke
upon my mind thus I awoke.
This urgent tone quickly worsening
called to mind my Siamese nurseling,
so curious what my kitten faced
I stumbled from my sleep in haste.
Soon the door was opened wide
to find me in the night outside
and there beneath a streetlight sat
my kitten and a large black cat.
But something else moved in the night
with soundless feet towards the light,
It was a lady of some substance,
I stayed no less, though with reluctance.
For what was elegance and grace
doing where it had no place,
with clothes a hundred years outdated,
we were sharing times unrelated.
Her arms reached out unnaturally
towards the silent cats and me,
I saw the large black cat respond
as though the two of them belonged.
Then she turned with arms outstretched,
her cat went too, though it were fetched,
they wandered outward from the light
and then away towards the night.
She came it seems, to guide its paws
back through time’s re-opening doors.
The Party and Other Things
Little Jimmy was a rebel,
he preferred to be estranged,
having noticed that the adults
were only surface rearranged.
Pretending to be one thing
and in fact, to be another,
he wasn’t going down that road
for others to uncover.
Socks were made for pulling up,
so he pulled his socks down,
covered legs went nasty white
and he preferred his brown.
Jackets must be worn at school
but it never suited him,
so he left it at a friend’s house;
teacher’s face was always grim.
Even hair was under orders,
every head was cloned
but Jimmy liked it natural,
so everybody groaned.
Whacking came on thick and fast,
both at home and school
and fighting in between with boys,
broke another rule.
Like water off a duck’s back,
were attempts at his correction,
he wasn’t going to finish up
an orthodox projection.
Although a stickler for his values,
he also had his price,
trifles, cakes and chocolates
were his corrupting vice.
Finally the day arrived
when he fell from grace
he was invited to a party
round at his friend’s place.
Now he knew children’s parties
meant lots of cakes and stuff
he also knew about the catch;
no-one turned up like a scruff.
So he stood before the mirror,
having climbed out of the bath,
the socks were up, the jacket on,
he hoped they wouldn’t laugh.
He discovered that his shirt
could fasten to the top,
but he wasn’t going to wear a tie
and turn up like a fop.
The hair would not pass muster,
it should not have had a wash,
it stuck out like a porcupine,
without grease, it wasn’t posh.
He rummaged through the cupboard,
there was not a thing in sight,
so he settled for the camphorated,
though it didn’t smell quite right.
He gazed into the mirror,
a vision of resplendence
and wondered was the cost too high
compromising independence,
but he was getting hungry
and time that he was going.
He knew the smell would soon be gone
for a boisterous wind was blowing.
Some half an hour later
he knocked the party door,
his friend was pleased to see him
and he was introduced to more.
The table groaned beneath the food,
twenty mouths began to eat,
then a little girl let out a scream
and vanished from her seat.
Camphorated was the reason
the table quickly cleared,
big sister from another room
very soon appeared.
Thirty seconds later
his head was in the sink,
shampooed half a dozen times
to modify the stink.
The sister started combing,
trying not to smile,
his mind was on the table
and its disappearing pile.
But time had done its damage
he was taken quite aback,
the table was a semblance
of a nuclear attack.
The gateaux plate was empty,
the trifle basin too,
and as other plates proved empty,
his disaster grew and grew.
But then a loaded tray appeared,
carried by his friend
and changed a near disaster
into a fat and happy end.
Nothing is Infallible
Nothing is so clever
that its never wrong,
nothing lasts forever
nothing lasts that long.
The Construction Business
There is no single item
that mankind has created,
whose pre-objective origins
were not fantasy related.
But fantasies come thick and fast
to every single mind,
judicious and improvident,
there is every kind.
Though seemingly capricious
from a narrow view,
in truth they are a reservoir,
an abstract elemental brew.
Fantasies are building blocks,
each mind makes its construction,
judicious ones will stand secure,
the others wreak destruction.
Judicious ones underscore
the process of their being,
their architect is intellect,
hope and sequel thus agreeing.
In establishing her principle,
Nature makes it clear,
that intellect alone creates,
then........what made us appear?
Happy School Days
Jimmy came back from the country
with a heavy dialect
and started at a new school,
but wasn’t treated with respect.
They said he sounded funny
so he told them ‘what to do’.
They called him a country yokel
and so the tension grew.
They had a champion fighter,
a giant of a girl
that Jimmy kept away from
lest her venom should unfurl.
But she liked an easy target
and soon she sealed his fate,
instructing him to meet her
that night outside the gate.
Now Jimmy didn’t mind a fight
but never with a giant,
so he quickly made a plan
so as not to be compliant.
At last the classrooms emptied
at the finish of the day,
they all gathered at the exit;
they had a game to play.
But it soon became apparent
they were missing their main player,
and so the hunt began
for their victim for the slayer.
In the meantime, Jimmy,
in an effort to escape,
tried squeezing through a window
that was too small for his shape.
His head soon found its freedom,
quickly followed by his chest
but his trousers got entangled
so he couldn’t bring the rest.
At last the baying pack arrived
and soon his legs were captured,
followed by the rest of him,
he wasn’t feeling too enraptured.
They swarmed out of the building
carrying their quarry
towards a quiet secluded place
where they wouldn’t have to worry.
They quickly formed a circle,
silence fell upon the crowd,
with Jimmy in the centre,
his escape was not allowed.
Their champion stepped forwards,
her talons raked the air,
Jimmy looked upon the scene,
it filled him with despair.
But she was over confident
and didn’t watch her guard,
she didn’t see the lightening blow
that struck her nose so hard.
The girl let out an awful squeal
and landed on her back,
tearfully complaining
of Jimmy’s fell attack.
But her complaints were smothered
as the mob began to stir
and the next thing seemed to Jimmy
was a lynching would occur.
Eager hands fell on him
and raised him up on high,
then he heard them cheering,
it seemed a funny way to die.
But at last he got the message
they were glad she was defeated,
her bullying was over with
and justice had been meted.
Ticking Clocks
By ticking clocks within the head,
the pace is set and we are led.
The silent ticking clock awaits,
all things devolve to former states.
Voices of the Heart
Anima to ego, must we stay apart,
you’ve built a wall between us,
a foolish course you chart.
Your future’s bleak without me,
together we are strong,
break down the wall between us,
apart we don’t belong.
You rule in things objective,
I’m power behind your throne,
you’re grasping at illusions
when I’m cast out out alone.
My name can be destruction,
my name can be amour,
my name is many shades between,
I’m the keeper of the door.
I speak in ways symbolic,
unravel them you must
to seek from them the only path
to which a spirit may entrust.
The Jimmy Riddle
The school bus pulled up near some old Cornish mines
and the children poured out and formed into lines.
Orders were given “We must stay all together”,
it was a desperate hope and a wasted endeavour.
For they spread out like ants around the ruins and holes
and disappeared into tunnels, like rabbits and moles.
Teacher was dumbstruck, she ran here and there,
collecting the miscreants under her care.
It took all of an hour collecting them all,
though one was still missing at the final roll call.
“It’s Jimmy that’s missing” said a voice from the ranks,
“He’s been up to one of his usual pranks.”
“He went down a hole with a torch in his hand,
mumbling something I could not understand,
there were ladders and platforms right to the bottom,
according to Jimmy they were sound, and not rotten.”
Jim in the meantime, was two hundred feet lower,
three hundred more followed at a speed rather slower,
for the steep sloping shaft that he followed this time
had rotting supports that were covered with slime.
Then he saw some old writing just overhead
from the smoke of a candle, had been written “Jed”.
He stepped into a tunnel and walked for a while,
though a few yards with Jed seemed more like a mile.
His wobbling torch threw weird shapes on the wall
and his feet echoed back like a distant foot fall,
he was now in a panic but he couldn’t go back,
where he knew “Jed” was waiting to mount his attack.
Then a steep sloping shaft came into his view
like the one he’d come down, so his hopefulness grew.
He ascended its ladders at a dizzying speed,
faster he hoped than “Jed” could exceed.
In no time at all he was out above ground
through a vertical shaft like the one he’d first found.
There were bushes about, so he stayed out of view
whilst he did some quick thinking, for he knew what was due.
Then he took a quick peek at the distant furore
where the shaft was surrounded by some thirty or more,
then a quick as a whip, he slipped back to the bus
for he had a good plan for reducing the fuss.
Jimmy pressed on the hooter for ever so long,
until the driver came back to see what was wrong.
“I’ve been asleep here for hours,” Jimmy then said,
until that awful commotion made me wake up instead.
When they got back to school, there were rumours about,
‘Jimmy entered a mine and didn’t come out’.
Several pairs of young eyes could vouch for this fact,
it left no doubt in their minds, it was a magical act.
A Dogalogue of Misfortune
We had a dog in our street
that kept a cat in constant flight
until that poor tormented creature
was a gaunt and haunted sight.
But the day of retribution
was soon to be at hand
when dog and cat with kittens met,
for then she made her stand.
The peaceful day erupted
to the sounds of doggy terror
with a cat clamped firmly on his back,
he knew he’d made an error.
Then off he flew at lightning speed
as she began to claw,
and disappeared around a bend
leaving fur upon the floor.
His ears were never quite the same
with edges all serrated
and he never chased that cat again
with his courage zero rated.
But he had a back-up hobby,
he really hated cars,
causing anger to the owners
whose paintwork bore his scars.
His modus operandi
was to sit outside his house,
then as the worried drivers passed,
he played a game of cat and mouse.
Then every so often
and no-one knew quite when,
he’d launch upon a passing car,
it never looked the same again.
He settled in one morning
to dispense the daily trauma,
when come-uppance in another form
came driving ‘round the corner.
This driver had a plan in hand
in case it should be needed,
then sure enough in passing,
the dog’s attack proceeded.
The driver got his timing right
then opened up his door,
and the poor old dog was batted
fifteen feet or more.
Now everything that purrs
and anything with wheels,
he has banished from his hobbies
for giving him bad deals.
With such a battered ego,
will he find a new endeavour,
perhaps with such a murky past
it’s better never to say never.
Purchasing Power
Jimmy was sent to the shops
for the Dandy and five cigarettes,
Woodbines came in packets of five,
without them father frets.
All the shops were nice and new
where Jimmy did the buying,
one of them
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