By Scott Bailey © 2013

Slowly the shadows pass
As memories retreat and fade
Passing beyond the glass

Like springtime budding grass
New joys together are made
Slowly the shadows pass

This pain we will surpass
And sunbeams will cascade
Passing beyond the glass

Though sometimes the shattered glass
Will cut us like a blade
Slowly the shadows pass

New light will surely trespass
On the lawn that we have made
Passing beyond the glass

Those memories we can’t bypass
But their colour has finally greyed
Slowly the shadows pass
Passing beyond the glass

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2013

A conduit, a bridge or a gateway.
It goes under many old names.
Open it with wonder and reverence,
For the spell will then be underway.

The weakest of hands can undo it
The portal of magical ways
Connecting one mind to another
With a delicate ethereal wave.

Some portals are heavy and dusty
Some dance with electrical sparks
But they all do the same, all show the way
For strange dreams from heart to heart.

There were even once living gateways
Who opened the way with a look
Always there’s one right beside us
The conduit, the gateway, the book.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Listen to all the anger
Hark at all the fury
Just remember that
You no longer own the jury

Humiliate the whistleblower
Make him out a fool
Wielding propaganda
Like an old blunt tool

Don’t you know we’re cynics now
We can see through all the lies
You will have to do much better
Or suffer the surprise.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

 A Lanturne

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Stars
Magic
Fathers dance
Under dark trees
Dream

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Bright flakes of light in dappled leaves
that float on down
where saplings grow
and settle low

And earthy scents rise in the air
As underfoot
leaves crunch and fold
red-brown and gold

The rusty fence that holds it in
it holds us too
back from that time
when we roamed free

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Sometimes the things we are due
do not arrive
Sometimes that precious parcel
is lost
Sometimes the blows
are more than we think
we can survive
But we do

It is the ancient sadness
of humanity
Happiness has such
frailty

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Shouting into the hole that is the whole
Nothing back.
Raging against the system that is all
Nothing changed.
Staring at the box with the box.
Nothing gained.
Justifying every move you make
Not explained. 

Time to change.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2013

There are empty spaces
left as people move on,
of the spaces of places long gone,
of times gone by

There is a link between present and past
an energy, a potential,
strung between the memories gone
and the living yet to roll on

The link hums with the tension
and the empty spaces echo back the thrum
deep rich reverberation
layered on the past, the present, the future

Such is the music of life.

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2013

Worn out, knackered, done
A brimful of boxy fun
In old Legoland

Originally published in A Spring of Dreams