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In the year thirty, thirty three
At Gliese six-six-seven Cee
We monitored our landing thrust
then touched down gently in the dust.
It wasn't until the second day
That I could quietly slip away.

Laboriously I climbed a hill
And almost choking on the thrill
I turned my disbelieving eyes
Up to the waiting, ochre skies
And saw the dream that drove a rhyme
So gently crafted at a time
When good men feared we'd never live
Instead, unable to forgive
That endless wars would terminate
In wiping Man clean off the slate.

A thousand years have passed since then
And all he asked us fellow men
Was to recite some simple verse
In honor to the Universe.

“If ever from a rocky hill
Three suns, amazingly, instill
A sense of peace, and quiet thought
A value found, that was long sought

Then know for sure that no Divide
Can stop me smiling by your side “.

Francis Meyrick

There exists a nameless, dream-like,
wandering state
anonymous
To which, oddly, I aspire.
A following of The Way,
Quiet and unassuming in manner
A self effacing journey of submersion
Totally, without appeal
into my Father's house,
the Universe.

Sometimes, people say
kind words
about my expression
of my journey,
My scribblings
And my rhyming doodles.
It's nice
When they do,
And I'm happy
They can relate
But it doesn't really matter
It's not an end in itself
And if I don't watch out
Somehow, it distracts
And focuses
Unwanted attention
On my wholly irrelevant ego.

I wish I could remain,
nameless,
And unseen, but rumored to be
Rhyming
Somewhere high up the mountain
Where only clouds
Dream-like
drift by.
Untroubled by the struggling
Of this
Mortal Man.

Perhaps, in erasing self
And forgetting my name
Lies reward
Maybe
I can finally become
Lost
In the true expression
Of Humility
And fully realize
At last
How small
Insignificant
And dull I am.

At the same time
Knowing
Beyond a shadow of doubt
That I am a child of the Universe
And that I am
quietly
Amazingly
Passionately

loved

Francis Meyrick

The vistas of cosmology

While I bumble about the place
I love to ponder aerospace
I love to wonder at the stars
Whilst peering past my prison bars
I've lived too long with shuttered mind
Along with most of humankind
But Science now has gifted me
The vistas of cosmology.

I've stood upon the Martian plains
And strained to see a humble light
A speck, a dot, a tiny mite
The echo of my dragging chains
Our home, our fragile biosphere
So far away, and yet so near.

I've hovered underneath the rings
Where Saturn's shadow gave me pause
As if I heard some gentle strings
That hinted at celestial cause.
There shielded from the solar glare
Entranced into a distant stare
Again I saw our tiny world
Among a billion stars unfurled.

I love that tiny, hard pressed sphere
Where tyrants seek to domineer
Where brutish tends to soon outsmart
The lute strings of a gentle heart.
But Science now has gifted me
The vistas of cosmology.

They say it is my place of birth
And there I must collect my worth
But I say with a shrug and smile
I'll only linger for a while.

For I was born among the stars
Long before the prison bars
My very atoms forged with ease
In massive stellar factories.

My father is the Universe
Astronomy my patient nurse
I have no fear of what's unsure
For I have searched, and felt its cure.

A Cosmic Kindness, hidden well
Enchants me with its ancient spell.
I love to wonder at the stars
Whilst sawing through my prison bars.

Francis Meyrick

He may be brilliant, rich in skills
And never want for bread or gold
But if there lurks a heart beneath
The baking soda white smile teeth
Then surely he will ponder grief
And search at times for sweet relief?

I wonder if you asked me where
I go when all around is noise
If knocking on my creaking gates     
You poked behind the cool and poise
What would you find to give you thought
Assuming that is what you sought?

My refuge is a sunlit sky
Above an ocean, where I fly
Alone and musing, slapping blades,
A thoughtful place where glory fades
Horizons far that seem to call
Like peering down a marble hall
Ten thousand gleams of scattered light
And waves that march right out of sight.

No land, or ship, or man roams here
No hate, nor lust, not even fear
Just day that followed restless night,
Just blue, and grey, and flashing white
The cosmic dance, another Time
The sense that this so simple rhyme
May touch more closely on Life's theme
Than stumbling through my waking dream.

No dogma, laws or preachy meme
Should be allowed upon this scene
A silence reigns upon my stage
The quiet turning of a page.

I loved the burbling, gentle flight
That tried to make an ache come right
The wistful search for a missing spoke
The wheel that turned, although half broke,
I wonder what it was I sought
And that I somehow never caught
I wonder if I'll ever rest
And count those days among my best.