poetry

by

Lost #1

Standing on this sun-soaked beach without you,
sea splashes mix with salty tears
that the gentle wind brushes from my cheek
My toes curl into the soft white sand
as they did whenever you caressed me.

Is it a mistake to return so soon,
whence the last strands of happiness lie?
I blight this place which you once graced,
laying lithe and golden on its shore,
out dazzling the sun with your luster.

Laughter from unknowing revellers offends me
and I fix my gaze to past horizons,
where my passion knew no end,
before this shroud of misery enveloped me,
In an echo of your pall.

Crisp white sheets filled with fragrant breezes
glide the distant yachts to quiet harbours
Safe from storms they’ll rest peacefully, like you.
Whilst I remain, marooned in turmoil.
At sea.
At loss.
Alone.

This poem was written in response to today’s challenge.cropped-class-seal_seal-class-of-september-20141

by

I Gemini

There is no completeness.
Just a conjoined two-parter,
both morose and merry,
poured in equal measure.

Doubled and divided.
A personality duel
both losing and winning.
Enjoyed and loathed the same.

The stars eke this chasm,
disabling self-belief,
turning my happy soul
toward the drear darkness.

by

The Book

Golden filigree font idly patterns the skin
that embraces the pages
as softly as a mother

Translucent, moon coloured, pages
littered with emotion.
And mystery.

Pliable, soft to the touch pages.
Turning silently, seducing
quiet contemplation

And oh, the end!  The end!
That final page,
that final turn,
triumphantly heralding
the sadness of a friendship finished.

 

by

Some Day

Whenever a papery butterfly
alights on a sweet scented bloom,
a rainbow arcs over the desert,
and there’s a smile on the face of the moon.

When the tiger bee sips from the chalice
of a perfectly formed daffodil,
spring instantly turns into summer,
and the sea becomes perfectly still.

When the gentle dove glides over rivers
that mirror his wings like a twin,
the rattle of guns promptly ceases,
and real peace will surely begin.

by

Notice

Notice how the sun feels on your skin
How the wind makes you squint your eyes
How the rain makes you shiver
How the snow makes you smile

These things make you alive

Notice how soft the pillow is
when you rest your head
How warm the water is
straight from the tap
How the walls keep out the weather
to keep you dry and safe

These things make you rich

by

Prayer to the Reaper

Death creep quietly to my side
smooth the life lines from my face
let the darkness rest my eyes
and wrap me in your cold embrace

Lift the troubles from my soul
soothe the ache from weary bones
I will submit without recoil
‘til but the shell of me remains

Stop my heart from pumping blood
so lips no longer crave the kiss
Tears will dry upon my cheeks
the scars of life to turn to dust

Then teary eyes remember life
and turn their gaze towards the light.

by

Backpacker Mother

This was inspired by my daughter’s current trip around South America, which she has loved while I have worried.  I’m a bit jealous too to be honest!

Backpacker Mother

In the tangled jungle of my mind
creepies and crawlies
bite and suck.
They feast on your blood
and fill you with venom.
Howls of the night
keep you from rest,
and contorted vines
grab at your feet.

Oh, and the poisons
that turn your mind within
and make you fear your past.
And your future.
Those poisons in the smoke,
the innocent leaf,
and the full round berries,
Juicy and ripe,
that would lull you to a soundless sleep.

In the cave-dark recesses
I see nothing but danger.
Whilst you, bathing in the dappled sun,
taut with adrenalin,
lean and young and brilliant,
agile and streetwise,
your light shields your eyes
seeing only the soft green shoots
and fearful creatures.
Seduced by that beguiling woodland.
Aware of only good

You go where I would fear to travel.

Take care. x

 

by

That’s Life

The bubbles of wealth
used to rise in the glass
and tingle on my lips.
The label that I wore with verve
Skimmed lightly cross my hips

Hair in fashionable disarray
I’d sashay round the town
always remembering to cross my knees
whenever I sat down

I was finished y’know in Switzerland.
I folded napkins there
and learnt to act in a modest way
That behove a lady fair

In scarlet I went hunting
And found myself a beau
Not the handsomest of gentlemen
But he did have a chateau

I bathed in foreign sunshine
and royalty were friends
But it was just illusion
And soon the summer ends

And now its only tea
That’s sipped from paper cups
No more the trips to Henley
or Badminton or such

Gold has now turned silver
and my hips are not my own
and should I try to cross my knees
I’d likely break a bone

 

by

The Secret

The secret of life said the woman, is to behave
in a way that is generally thought of as good.
To be careful of word and kind in thought,
and never get overwrought
about things that do not matter

The secret of life said the man, is to be strong
and brave and bawdy.To treat others
with authority and boldness,
and always win the fights
you choose to engage in.

The secret of life said the child, is to cry
when needy and cry when sad.
To be happy with small things like
paper and sand.To not become
emotionless or overbearing,

the secret of life is to not grow old.

by

The Marriage

Her, with her white-veiled smile, looking up at me.
Him, with his unlikely carnation. Shifty eyed.
The football-shirted pageboy,
flanked by two pink princesses,
sulkily kicks an invisible ball

The mum and dad wouldn’t come.
Too young, they said through tearful, pleading eyes.
I pray to god to bless this union,
Though secretly my heart despairs.
Friends cheer as they briefly kiss

Back down the aisle in the meringue inspired, empire-line dress
To the waiting limousine,
Back to the waiting council house clothes,
and the soon-to-be occupied nursery.
To the terraces of silent acceptance.

Five kids and many beatings later,
before she’s even 40, I’ll see her again in white robes.
Nicotine stained fingers betraying her killer
as surely as any pathology could
Friends sigh, and turn their faces, as she glides away