Scottish Summer Holiday

The rains awa – its noo so dreich

can we no go down tae the beach

and sit wi blankets roun our knees

to watch the wains play in the breeze

An then we'll ha an ice cream cone

wi chocolate flake an sprinkles oan

And ma will smile and she will say

This is what maks a holiday

An then its fish suppers all aroun

in ketchup and vinegar drownd

an we eat em shelterin in the door

So the wind cannae chill the chips no more

Obsession

by John Butterfield

the unattainable

the impossible

creates an attractive illusion

which against common sense

and better judgement

invades the inner self

to create confusion

by distorting the perception

of reality.

The little “if”

is elevated

to an improbable certainty

and results in projection

of a most dangerous kind.

fortunately recognition

is the first step

on a path to recovery

touchy feely overload!

By John Butterfield

A touchy feely person

in a touchy feely place

greets each other person with

a touchy feely embrace

but someone not acquainted

with these touchy feely ways

gets emotional indigestion

from such touchy feely days.

In this state of intoxication

or touchy feely overload

confused by rules not understood

instincts may explode

and the touchy feely backlash

causes self reflective pain

instead of bringing comfort

brings aloof disdain.

Scamp

Scamp was a puppy

A little yellow puppy

who bounced round the house

and barked at her name

She was so bonnie

She was a real cutie

She caused us such anguish

when God called her home.

Poor little puppy

Bundle of affection

was not strong enough

to fight the infection

The veterinarians healing

and powerful injection

Couldn’t stop God from taking

My little puppy home.

I mourned my little puppy

and missed her little footsteps

missed her squeaky barking

all around our home.

I hope there is a heaven

for little yellow puppies

who give mischievous affection

until God calls them home.

 A poem celebrating our puppy Scamp’s short life.   RIP

Blue Silence

by John Butterfield

Silence leads to light

lighter than white, but blue

as the name, much repeated

calls me deeper into the otherness

which is the sameness

but also the selfness

which defines and values

and raises perception

to make love visible as fireflies.

Love flows freely

from deep inner wells for

love cannot remain within

and still be love.

Peace flows in gently.

Calm: to later radiate benevolence.

Here I am free,

united and loved,

loving and present

waiting but not waiting

in the light

that is brighter than white:

the dawn blue of silence.

Train Journey

by John Butterfield

I never remember the scenery

nor the stations that we pass

but the passengers in my carriage

are part of life's rich farce...

There's the boy with the headphones

whose music is so loud

the we all can make out the lyrics

over the noise of the crowd.

There is the lonely older lady

who tells everyone her woe

and the beautiful young women

That men want to get to know!

There is the friendly girl with the trolley

bringing drinks, candy and snacks

and the grim ticket collector

who ignores all the wise cracks!

We rattle along for hours

in our own little world

enjoying the drama of the journey

all human life unfurled.

Eden

God

when you were in Eden

you were mean.

You treated Adam and Eve like kids;

you would not let them grow up;

you wanted them to say as your dependent babies in paradise

and never think or create anything for themselves

which was an abomination:

because you had made them like you

with the same urge to create

question and control

that was your nature.

I do not like the god of the garden.

Thank God that God grew up

later in the bible

and learnt that there was a better way

by letting go

and giving away freedom

for his offspring to make their own mistakes.

A lesson every parent has to learn.