I lurch through
the damp eyed days
and bitter nights
of endless Autumn
thinking of your summer love
bathed in warmth
salty tousled hair
sand leaching on amber limbs
champagne sunsets
and steamy nights
wish I was her
Is it Poetry?
Sun Day Shower
Raindrops on lilies
teardrops in the summer sun
diamonds from the sky
The One
I see it hanging from the tree
it’s virgin skin
red and ripe
amongst the late summer leaves
I long to bite into it
taste it’s sweetness
on my tongue,
feel it’s juices dribbling
childishly down my chin
It’s high.
I have to climb
the rough
crumbling bark,
grazing palms and shins
in my pursuit
Until aloft
I stretch and reach,
but my fingertips
fail to grasp,
and it falls
I jump to the grass below
to find my prize,
but every shiny fruit
hides a savage scar
and though I search
I cannot find perfection
At night
I am a secret
in the dark
curled and stretched
a cat
and not
I go to places
imagined
and real
yet no-one
sees me
I soar and swoop through
fantasies
but remain
still
breathing
In blackness
I feel soft
down
enveloped
alone
With you
Ordinary People
In the space where souls wait
where even the saints have regrets
the walls ring with the guilt and shame
of those narrow lives
lived in insular oblivion
Reflections of selfless love
and children’s innocence
illuminate the dark corners
purifying the air
and disgracing the damned
Too late for wishes and dreams
they lay discarded
slippery as wet pebbles
whilst hope lies shattered
in shards of sorrow
meekly we gather in the centre
clutching our confessions
and remorse
to contemplate our foolish little lives
and await the price
A year in colour
Posted in response to the Daily Post weekly photo challenge. This week’s theme ‘Seasons’
As the year rolls by
nature’s bold palette mellows
to soft autumn hues
Life’s a breeze
Posted in response to the Daily Post weekly photo challenge. This week’s theme ‘Time’
The passing of time
Seconds, minutes, hours, days,
Seasons a whisper
Years a ripple on water
life a transient zephyr
Reflection
Whose drowsy eyes are those
The sunken faded green
that has seen so much
yet so little of the world
Those pinched lips that once
puckered for luscious kisses
or got coated in ice-cream
and smiled at absurdities
When did the heavy brow and bags arrive
And that plethora of chins
A wobbling wattle where
virgin skin was smooth and taut
Worry and tears have drawn
their lines with broad strokes
crinkling the cheeks
with creases and furrows
And what of the hair
Golden yet not
Gone is that sleek sheen of youth
that shimmered in the summer sun
Winter brings the chill
a frost to glaze those eyes
and thin the lips
tarnishing a once so radiant face
Onwards
Follow the right path
you may get lost and stumble
but you will find light
Back to work
Alarmed, I open gluey eyes
to see the darkness still hangs low
toe by toe then limb by heavy limb
I crawl from cosy warmth
and sit and scratch and stretch and yawn
then drag droopily
down the stairs in slippered feet
to where the kitchen kettle boils
and the radio plays
and all the world seems ready for the day
Except me
Rebooting 