Pendle Hill

Past Pendleton, up, through mist and rain,
 To Sabden by a foggy lane,
A sleeping elephant, green and pleasant,
 Rises, majestic, from the valley plane.

By Clitheroe that hill bewitched,
 Astride the long, grey bypass pitch,
Calmly waits for travellers gait,
 Unchanged through centuries that glorious niche.

On a fine Spring day from Kemple End,
 Serene is the view that hill subtends.
Within that stretch of dewy splendour,
 A sight to behold, sore eyes to lend.

Unchanged while time has left its mark,
 By the swaying trees and twittering lark,
The Ribble ripples, swerves and trickles,
 Through a land that dwells within my heart.

If you were the ocean

If you were a bush,
I'd be a bee.
 I'd buzz all day
From flower to flower
And clutch to them quite happily.

If you were a tree,
I'd be a blackbird.
 I'd nest, warmly,
From crest to tail,
And in your boughs I would sleep.

If you were a rock,
I'd be a lichen.
 I'd hold you close when times get rough,
Though centuries may pass,
And grow on you with every mist, and fog.

If you were the ocean,
I'd be a driftwood.
 I'd buffer the tide,
Though storms may blow,
And always by your side.

If you were the sky,
I'd be an eagle.
 I'd ride the thermals,
Beneath the sun,
And soar for miles with pride.

You are not the sky,
You are not the ocean,
Nor bush, nor rock, or tree.
 You are all of these, from twig to wing,
You mean the world to me.

A day in the lab

Buzzing, whirring, clicking, stirring,
Bottles chinking, bunsens burning.
A laminar breeze flows soft over face,
Hands float in a sweaty sea of latex.

The putrid stench of Agrobacterium
Does for the nostrils that of spice to rectum.
A callous row of mutants in line,
Nutrient jelly under cabinet lights.

A constant tremor from vibrating rubber,
Liquids mixing in whirlpools in tubes.
A mortar and pestle chinks and grinds,
Powdering leaves in clouds of steaming nitrogen.

SDS, virkon and dry ice sit whistling,
Bubbles burst into a cacophony of twittering.
Whitney Houston blares on the stereo,
White coats splay to How Will I Know.

An appropriate phrase for research in science,
Unsure and sure are concepts intertwined.
The sounds, sights and smells make a hazy environment,
Each day a race against the onrush of time.

The Open Game

You need confidence
Or you'll struggle at any game.

You need to play
With good players,
Sink a few puts -
Hit it around a little...

Once you're in full swing,
You'll be smashing birdies on the regular.

Life's giddy highway

In life's snaking highway there'll be tribulations,
Roadblocks ahead and anxious situations.

But don't be too pensive, or tense for the future,
What comes will come, treat life like a suitor.

The end is the only thing certain since birth,
So live untrammelled, unabashed, with mirth.
 
For what is life,
if not the giddy exploration of the path towards death?

Live for the moment

It's the moment that we live for,
Success will come with passion.
Dreams should be left in the bedroom,
Pursue what you can do...
Enable your dreams to come true.

In life, a free mind,
and a free heart,
is preferable
to a life craving success
beyond all else.

Laugh and rhyme

To poetry,
rhyme is as
laughter to comedy.
Without it,
for either,
it is neither.
What then
for a life
without love?