William Ross
New Zealand
As The Sea

I ebb and flow
Swelling with emotion,
My thoughts racing like a tidal wave
Seeking the distant shore on which some answers may be found.

Ripples of pleasure can be seen and felt,
Yet below great turbulence remains,
Gliding nightmarishly through a seaweed jungle,
Moving upwards to explode at its foaming mouth.

What fleeting patterns in my mind exist?
A sudden impulse - like a darting squid.
The flash of genius? Elusive as the silver salmon,
Yet hope, clinging like a barnacle, remains.

The Voice Within

Call it conscience call it faith,
Call it what you will,
But listen to it urgently
Lest your voice be stilled.


What a joy it is to see
And yet we are so blind
The blind man sees
In his mind's eye
The things we try to hide

The Tallest Giraffe

On behalf of myself and my daughter Emma Taff
May I please be permitted to obtain your autograph?
At the same time do allow me to take a photograph
As I need to send this quickly to the Daily Telegraph

This poem of course refers to a very large giraffe
Round whose neck was a polka-dotted brightly coloured scarf
To put this on required a ladder and the zoo's entire staff
And me, hanging round her neck, well!
I must have looked quite daft.

But not to end this tale too sadly, I write another paragraph
Just to prove after all there's still time to have a laugh
Because there is a 'little secret' I can tell on your behalf
You see that very tall tall lady, has a very tiny calf.

How do I tell my children?

How do I tell my children not to do what I have done?
How do I show the way ahead, yet let them have their 'fun'?
How do I explain the wrongs that lead to living hell?
How do I talk about the things I have no words to tell?

How do I find a way to show this world's so full of greed?
How do I learn to appreciate the lives they want to lead?
How do I help them understand what life is all about?
How do I try to teach them when my learning is in doubt?

How do I give the love I have for them, anew each day?
How do I overcome these things, before time slips away?
I need to find the answers now!
There's much to do, while time allows
To show my children, and theirs too

That only peace and love will do.

When I Think Of You

When I think of you -
    I think of warmth and laughter,
When I think of you -
    I smell blossoms heavy with dew,
When I think of you -
    I feel your hand resting in mine,
When I think of you -
    I see all the colours of the rainbow,
And when I think of you -
        I just want to go on dreaming
        Until the reality awakens me.

Wind of Change

So much is cast upon the wind,

Words spoken in jest or in anger,

We should be careful lest they

Yet again return,

For the wind knows not

Where its journey ends.

Will we ever learn?

So much pain,
So easy to forget,
So many lives in torment,
So much is owed, and yet
So little understanding leads
So few to try and help,
So will we really ever learn not just to think of self?

I must be dreaming

I'm not awake, yet not asleep
But still I hear you softly speak
You call my name, I turn to hear
But nothing more I sadly fear,
I must be dreaming

You came to me at work today
But then your never far away,
I feel you very close to me
There is a vision that I see
But then, I'm surely dreaming.

I realise how much I miss
Your smile, the scent you wear, that kiss
So far away and yet so near
Your laughter ringing loud and clear
But no, I must be dreaming.

                      A World Together?


  Christmas joy and birthday fun
  Opening presents one by one
                          No special day to shed some light
                          The broken doll is held so tight
Picnics, swimming at the beach
  Friends and family within reach
                          Windswept hovels in the sand,
                          No one comes to lend a hand
A cut kissed better, then a hug
  Playing games upon the rug
                          Wounds so deep they may not heal
                          This game of life seems so unreal
Bath-time fun, delighted screams
  Bedtime drinks and happy dreams
                          No clean water, dirty clothes
                          Nightmares disturb our short repose
Schooldays learning how to write
  Painting pictures, such delight
                          No books or joy to fill the breach,
                          Is this what life has come to teach?
No cares or woes no need to fear
  Knowing mum and dad are near
                          Afraid, unsure of what's ahead
                          One parent ill, the other dead

Theirs is a bitter-sweet refrain
Where only fragile hope remains
                 We have the means to do so much
          Let's give them more than straws to clutch.

              All Copyright © Billy Ross 2005

Bio: Originally from the Isle of Skye, Scotland. Now residing in Pukekohe with his New Zealand born wife Jeanette. Writing interests are varied and include, articles, short stories and song lyrics for which composers are frequently sought.