Lines Publications

Lines Publications LINES Publications is the result of a dream held by Linda Prince.

30/04/2024

April 30

Winter Sunset

A splash of tomato dripping down,
Vermeil touches highlighting
Remnants of solar orb and crown.
Slumber calls Helios abed.

A dash of chilli beating down,
Indigo lowlights soothing
Fragments of majestic robe and gown.
Sleep beckons Helios abed.

A clash of onyx streaking down,
Cameo branches piercing
Remains of the day’s sceptred frown.
The pillow cradles the sun gods head.

L Prince

29/04/2024

April 29

The Vigil

We congregate late evening,
When the darkness envelopes us
And wraps around like a comfortable, old cashmere coat.
I’ve intimate thoughts and dreams that
Linger above the cold stone.
Smoke that drifts Heavenwards so votive.
Say farewell and remember,
Through the night on bleak patrol,
Waiting, waiting. Latin words, supplication emotive.
Watching the samba flames dancing
Taking hopes and ambition skywards,
Staring into lost embers and devote.
I’ve watched the fire smoulder and burn,
Preoccupied with lambent musings
And ancient words by hopefuls quoted.
We scatter early morning,
When the light envelopes us
And wraps round like a shiny, brand-new overcoat,
Resilient and sustained to face another day.

L Prince

28/04/2024

April 28

The Pals

One for all and all for one.
Leap and jump, scamper and run.
Walk the dogs, sit and beg,
Nuzzle, cuddle, bite your leg.
Rollover and play, keep warm and toastie,
Growl and bark, and chase the postie.
Lick your hand, wagging a tail.
Big wide eyes that never fail.
Sleep in the basket, snore the floor,
Throwing the stick, come back for more.
All for one and one for all,
Give us a treat and we’ll come when you call.

L Prince

27/04/2024

April 27

Twinkle

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Across the universe so far.
A lifetime away from planet earth
Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Telescopes trained to see what you are.
But when our sun has lost its shine
Will you still be crystal in the sky?

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
A firefly trapped in a glass jar.
When earth has boiled and ebbed away
Will you remain a glow-light in the sky?

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
How I wonder what you are.
Probes tell us light years are between
And you may not be up in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
But you may not be there, how bizarre.
When earth is silent and we are gone
We will remember and twinkle a last goodbye.

L Prince

26/04/2024

April 26

What you lookin’ at?

Late afternoon, an emerald damselfly flutters lost in thought.
The sun is low and the cattle low.

Late afternoon, hooves clatter on the ancient, cobbled way.
The sun is low and the cattle low.

Late afternoon, the milk is warm and the day is done.
The herd stops and I heard them speak.

“Late afternoon, cars can wait, don’t need to rush.”
The herd stops and I heard them speak.

Late afternoon, drowsy cattle going home.
Large, soft dark eyes stare as they wait near the stair.

Late afternoon, calmness descending, reading their thoughts.
Large, soft dark eyes stare as they wait near the stair.

“What you looking at? What do you see?”
Cows coming home.
“You lookin’ at me?”

L Prince

25/04/2024

April 25

Water under the Bridge

Red bricks kettling the waters that rise,
As the rains keep coming down.
Standing strong, the bridge holds its position,
Protecting villages and the edge of town.

Guarding the old, the bulwark stands its ground,
As the rains keep coming down.
Enforcing order, the defences stand tall,
As river rises and threatens breakdown.

The tension on the span stays potent,
As the rains keep coming down.
Secure the arch that boxes in the power of the flood,
While the torrent bubbles up to drown.

Red bricks kettling the waters that rise,
As the rains keep coming down.
Standing strong, the bridge holds its position,
Protecting villages and the edge of town.

L Prince

24/04/2024

April 24

Watching the boats

Water laps,
Evening draws in,
And the boats outmanoeuvre the sleeping swans.
Night kidnaps
The day in a spin,
And the boats settle down to slumber and rest.
Wind naps,
Boats rock and begin,
And the noise of day dims once more.
Bankside traps
Dreams within
And Swans are mute as they doze once more.
Waves slap,
Against wood and tin
And muffled bells lull vagabonds and waterfowl alike.

Eyes close as the boats lull sailors to sleep.
Other beady eyes keep watch until morning beams creep
Over the bows and night shakes off the dark and the deep.

L Prince

23/04/2024

April 23rd

Two Popes

Imagine the day, sun drenched bougainvillea,
Fragrant white lilies bend to Mary’s thoughts,
Lost in the mist of time.

Imagine the scene, cardinal red side by side,
Against the all-white robes of the other
Reflecting in the summer-time.

Imagine the conversation, a dance of words,
Intellectual pirouette, higher thoughts.
Both astute, cerebrally in their prime.

Imagine the outcome, stunned in complicity,
Two great souls in a one-sided negotiation.
One retiring, one on the climb.

Did it ever happen? Imagine the garden,
Where powerful men traded innermost thoughts.
A change in style, a new paradigm.

L Prince

22/04/2024

April 22

Atlas and Lazarus

Big brother, proud and brave,
Holding new life in his arms.
Gently rocking to a distant melody.
Brotherly care and love that calms.
Atlas, you have the cares of the world
Upon your tender shoulder,
For the one you hold will trust in you
As he grows by your side and prospers older.
Atlas big brother, friend and defender
You are my world, always remember.

Little child, snuggling warm in the arms
Of your playmate soon to be,
A bond of kinship everlasting.
Smiling and thinking, looking up at he
Who will never let you down.
Lazarus, so small now but growing stronger
Day by day. A new life, your own personality
If only we could capture this moment longer.
Lazarus little brother, defender and friend
You raise me up, always unto the end.

L Prince

21/04/2024

April 21

Trumpet

Brass reflects the sun in her hair,
Golden, enveloping the mood with magisterial care.
Notes that retain history, military or religious
Thoughts, soaring like a lark on resplendent wing,
Ever up to pure crescendo.

Swathed in mystery ready for the next life,
Music cuts the air like an ancient carving knife.
And the young Pharoah closes his eyes,
To the swirling music, haunting silver,
As it surges to its zenith.

The Walls they fall to the sounds so pure,
As the metal sends a message the city will not endure.
Heralding the Games or arrival of the King
The humble blast brings a tear to the eye,
As the note hangs superlative in the pinnacle of day.

L Prince

Address

37 Lighterage Court, Kew Reach, Brentford
London
TW80FT

Telephone

+447957607111

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