Still half asleep,
I turn the key
And venture out
Into the frost.
The moon rides low
Across the sky
And overhead
The plough still hangs.
Orion’s dog
His master leads,
The hunter’s pouch
Brimful of stars.
Still wrapped in night
And sleepy eyed,
Reluctantly
I start my day.
January 1992 (Poetic licence! Orion and Canis Major are not visible at the same time in January when we are getting up – they have both set by then.)
Did you hear the rain last night
Tapping on the window pane,
Asking me to let him in,
Did you hear the rain?
Did you see the lightning flash
White against my bedroom door,
Asking me to let him in,
Did you hear him roar?
Did you hear the night owl cry
Over by the garden wall,
Asking me to let him in,
Did you hear him call?
Did you see the waning moon
Shine upon my bed of pine,
Asking me to let him in,
Did you see him shine?
Did you see the shooting star
Fall to earth across the night,
Asking me to let him in,
Did you see his flight?
No, I slept the whole night through,
Nothing heard and nothing saw,
Laughed and played on other shores,
Dreamt and nothing more.
July 1980
I have a homing instinct for the stars 
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