Archive for January, 2017

From the day that we are born we’re encouraged to conform

And to grow up in the way that we’re expected.

So we don’t step out of line and we never rock the boat

For we fear that if we do we’ll be rejected.

We hide our inner selves and put on a masquerade

And live our lives as others think we ought.

It all becomes a habit, from the time that we were born

That’s the only way that we were ever taught.

We accept what we are told and our minds are so controlled

Our freedom is the price that we are paying.

And the judgements that we make, the decisions that we take

Are a product of those games that we are playing.

Do we ever stop to ask if the things we’re taught are true,

Or are we just perpetuating lies?

Copying the people who copied someone else

And seeing things through other peoples eyes.

It seems an awful shame that we feel the need to fit

In a mould that other people have created.

It’s as if we live a lie from our birth until we die

To conform with what society’s dictated.

So teach your kids to think things through before they tow the line.

To question all they read or hear, and they’ll just grow up fine.

No need to play a part in life that isn’t really you.

Because it’s what you’ve grown up thinking you’re expected to

Strip away those false veneers that you have taken on.

Unfettered by convention now, the goose becomes a swan.

And only now we realise that it was such a sin.

The masquerade had ne’er displayed the beauty that’s within.

Copyright John Marsh 2012


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Think of me when the morning sun, rising

as it has done for ages untold,

from the hills in the east, works its magic,

turns the sky and the bay to pure gold.

In that shimmering moment at daybreak

I have watched and my heart’s taken wing.

Transfixed by the beauty that morning

and sunlight on water can bring.

How fleeting that moment, how fleeting.

It is gone in the blink of an eye.

But it’s printed inside of my head now,

those hills and that sun and that sky.

So if ever you witness such beauty

with the sky and the sun and the sea

and the hills and the morning sun rising,

and it fills you with joy; think of me.

Think of me when the hedges awaken

and  the spring turns the browns into green,

and the countryside wakes from its slumber

and the signs of new life can be seen.

When the bluebells all carpet the woodland

and their perfume lies sweet on the air.

When the gorse adds its yellow to hillsides

that are green with new grass I’ll be there.

Where the burn tumbles out of the hillside

or the river flows down to the sea.

Or the loch, like a mirror, reflects clouds and sky

look around you for there I will be.

On a cold and damp day in the autumn

with a mist drifting in from the sea,

If you hear the sad call of a curlew

echo over the bay, think of me.

Think of me when you see a red sunset

settle over a blood red sea

and a white-breasted seagull is calling

the way that it once called to me.

And you see twilight’s shadows are stretching

ghostly fingers across the lawn

and the bats spread their wings and the nocturnal things

all take over the garden till dawn.

When the moon, rising up in the heavens,

bathes the sea and the sky and the land

In a silvery sheen, think how often I’ve seen

silver sky, silver sea, silver sand.

If you picture a beautiful garden,

nestled close to the side of the sea,

full of birdsong and flowers. I spent happy hours

in one such as this. Think of me.

Copyright John Marsh

This beautiful poem was written when John’s marriage broke

up and he went travelling and had to leave his home and garden 

by the bay in Scotland.

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