Tranquilities Eve

Resting between cool linen,

On a drowsy summers eve

My lover dozing peacefully,

I’m listening to her breathe.


The evening starlight calm,

Breeze rippling through the leaves

Hearing the machinery startling,

It’s a shame what man achieves.


Escape to a place of no ripples,

No nothing to spoil the peace

Lying there beside my lover,

Hoping this moment will never cease.



© 1999 Mr Richard M Taylor.

Desire To Care

Desire To Care - Reflection

Paradise in turmoil,

Organised Chaos.

A battlefield of emotion,

Control without controls.


A wilderness in Time,

Floods of tears.

Acres of happiness,

Eyes that sparkle.


Such joy and glee,

Contrast unremitting pain.

Thoughts chasing through trees,

Dodging, never crashing.


Turn around and see me,

Hear my voice, Touch me.

You are my everything,

My swift footsteps without movement.


With billowing hair you observe,

Lips that shame blood.

Like a river with gracious curves,

Beauty rivalled only by your reflection.


Needs to desires,

Desires untamed in the hunt,

Love flowing from the source,

Snow without the cold.


Richard Taylor

June 1999


© 1999 Mr Richard M Taylor.



by Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953)

When George’s Grandmamma was told
That George had been as good as gold,
She promised in the afternoon
To buy him an Immense BALLOON.
And so she did; but when it came,
It got into the candle flame,
And being of a dangerous sort
Exploded with a loud report!
The lights went out! The windows broke!
The room was filled with reeking smoke.
And in the darkness, shrieks and yells
Were mingled with electric bells,
And falling masonry and groans,
And crunching, as of broken bones,
And dreadful shrieks, when, worst of all,
The house itself began to fall!
It tottered, shuddering to and fro,
Then crashed into the street below –
Which happened to be Savile Row.

When help arrived, among the dead
Were Cousin Mary, Little Fred,
The Footmen (both of them), the Groom,
The man that cleaned the Billiard-Room,
The Chaplain, and the Still-Room Maid.
And I am dreadfully afraid
That Monsieur Champignon, the Chef,
Will now be permanently deaf –
And both his aides are much the same;
While George, who was in part to blame,
Received, you will regret to hear,
A nasty lump behind the ear.