Tag: relationships

Up or down?

just when a ‘we’

becomes ill-defined

we look up to the valley

and down to the sky                                            

just when an ‘us’

hides behind a facade

we look behind the horizon

and beyond the yard                                           

and we find a ‘why’ and a ‘what’

and a ‘when’ and a ‘how’

as we stumble and fumble

to reach here and now                                        

so a ‘you’ and a ‘me’

can become ‘us’ with glue

and togetherness cries

until ‘we’ make a two                                          

who soar in delight

and ask; ‘how did we do’

stick to ‘us’ known as one

made of ‘me’ and of ‘you’                                  

and just when a ‘we’

is truly defined

we look down to the valley

and up to the sky  

On By sensualism in poetryIn Anxiety, Creative writing, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poetry, Writing4 Comments

Absolution

I walk beyond the fatal shore

to see what gaze can bring

and dance like a disciple

rescued by the leader’s ring

will he answer all my prayers

and welcome me to home

and be the man I always hoped

would save me from alone

the wind howls in the morning mist

and hollers strident dreams

when I walk past that fatal shore

nothing is as it seems

the distant cry from moonlit sky

the sudden chance that storm

would tolerate another cause

and keep so many warm

I hear it in horizons –

yet to see what can become

like a photographic still shot

abandoned by the sun

as I walk by it feels so shy

yet heats toward the core

sensing a shimmer out at sea

I’ll never want for more

and if my treasured trove is found

I’ll welcome others in

vow to remain a measured strain

absolved of all my sins.

On By sensualism in poetryIn Culture, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Poetry, Religion, Religion3 Comments

To the sea

I stand above the solemn field
where strangers come to see
whatever shall be wishing for
in news endowed to thee
 
I walk beside the strangest beach
where friends of all kinds walk
and then I dance the dance, so dear
but cannot talk the talk
 
But ever shall we wonder
whatever could have been
if only I had held your hand
if only I had seen
 
Never too late – the high sea tells
for tides may come and go
but love for other never strays
beyond the deepest foe
 
Who stands beside when told to move
who cannot make it clear
that always and forever thus
will bring the deepest fear
 
Of a poem in the making
a romance come what may
and dance the dance that’s sent to chance
and speak the words to say
 
I am a meagre, lesser man
when faced with you alone
and strive to be another
to the mirror, on my own
 
But no words mean no feelings
for they lead to actions thus
and always will they dare to build
a stronger, wiser us
 
Do not deprive your liberty
do not abide by chance
your eyes look to my feet to lead
and then we’ll dance the dance
 
And as the years may pass
and the passing comes to be
I’ll take your hand and walk my sweet
together – to the sea.
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Ne’er to go

The wind shakes –

the ground breaks –

your eyes wake and blink

 

a joyful string

your baggage light

delight in spring and build

 

create God’s guild

love, laugh then chide –

before I lose my alibi

 

I reached the wall –

a no-through road –

yet in your arms I fell

 

and all is well

 

for in you I’ve stayed –

devoted to your hand and heart

 

with you I ride – no more to stray

ne’er to go –

ne’er to go –

ne’er to go away.

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what makes one a fairy

what makes one a fairy

give her a hedge to hide behind

bring lightning and the strongest fragrance

and she will have taller feet –

longer arms and bigger hands

and delve into the Never-never-land

 

a playmate remains a little girl

travelling to the evening star

by horse and carriage ride –

abandoning reality

for the thrills of dreaming

 

frolic one must – fancy-free

for the passing of time

and the fairy’s wish

will be a wish for all

who bid goodbye

 

smother happiness upon another

play like there is no tomorrow

and delight in the bewitching hour –

build a cherished home

filled with fairy dust and jasmine flowers

 

to away austerity and lure love

and lead from way behind the hedge

and share the fairy’s fragrance

in mere mortals’ smiles –

 

seen in(stead) –

mere mortals in her stead.

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the storm

What can I see

when I say I can do

and the bird in the tree

reminds me of you

 

and the little lake ponders

and paddles and pants

and the stars in the sky

over yonder way land

 

speak to the children

who chide in the snow

and the sleet turns to feet

on the ski-slopes on show

 

 

and the fire has embers

that keep lovers warm

cuddled and huddled

under blankets in storms

 

and when thunder breaks

and pets hide out of view

the thunder’s anger

reminds me of you

 

when I said; I don’t love you –

can’t take anymore

and you told me; get out

and you showed me the door

 

 

as I dangled my feet

in the water below

and thought of the time

on the ski-slopes

in the snow

 

it was you on my mind

my ‘one’ grown from ‘two’

the bird in the tree

under sky, clearest blue

On By sensualism in poetryIn Blogging, Creative writing, Fiction & Poetry, Life, Love, Poetry, short stories, WritingLeave a comment

Max

Max was a magical, marvellous man

hard as a nail

soft as sleet in the snow

 

done best he can do

‘til sleep surrounded –

miraculous Max – one day

found confounded

 

Max was ‘tall’ –

a drinking man? no

tawdry at times

a frugal face

once judgemental

 

with big heart

brave and bold

and views fundamental

 

Max knew things – more than most

markedly smart with sweet soul

family first, old or young

family always had been

 

home by six was his mantra

to play with the kids

luscious his love –

his smile, serene

 

gasping yet gracious

inviting pillow that night

the room was enveloped

the feeling so keen

 

gasping, so gracious

everything right

gaspingly gracious –

Max said;

Goodnight!

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Now

Forever is ever

will never be lost

in trees in the woods

in the snow’s early frost

 

always is tomorrow

and days yet to come

now is the moment

we delight in the sun

 

the sky may be mourning

the wind saddened, it seems –

the tsunami of senses

that comes with the breeze

 

becomes something more

in the wings of the trees

from a bud to a blossom

in the Spring-time we see

 

no need for eyes –

our senses will tell

when we smell freedom

no longer under the spell

 

of life told to us

like a story-book, read

sitting upright

with a pillow

under blankets in bed

 

and once upon a time –

…the end.

 

we will cry

 

now is the time

that never says its

Goodbye.

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Wild days

Oh but for those wild days

Where the yardarm greets the sun

I could abate the little bird

And be the only one

 

Who stands upon a portal

And sings upon a rock

Who nestles in the silent night

Walking to the expanse of the dock

 

Why jump; one thinks and ponders

Why not; one thinks again

Happenstance sits over yonder

But serendipity, she sends

 

A message – in a bottle –

Coming from the heart

Entice the ‘castle’, built on sandy coast

And thought of, like a cart

 

That travails in her journey

To and from her homestead land

Ending bi-coastal adventures

That reflect a supple hand

 

That leads to ebbs and flows

In the ocean they call life

A choice of vice or virtue

In the afternoon’s delight

 

Does light shine upon you

Or does darkness build a hole

Where innocence is lost

And guilt, from pride, will take its toll

 

If we mislay our innocence

And find our fault-line again

Will uncertainty be censured

And life’s hypothesis be sent

 

To a man who sits, enraptured

Reading knowledge, cast as thought

And understands the notion

That wisdom can’t be bought

 

Yet on the ‘castle’ stands a King

Looking out upon the stone

Where the man sits viewing sunsets

From what he terms his ‘throne’

 

And throughout the night he ponders

And wonders at the world

His smile – captivated –

His life is now  unfurled.

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Seven seas

I dance to the windswept scent
of the flower bed that’s blooming

and walk to the sundrenched colour
of the bottle-brush in Spring.

I run to the overarching weakness
of the sunshine fading

and lie next to the smell of baby milk
that is the stunning bosom, bearing.

I sleep to the suppressed reality
of the sub-conscious, unaware

and wake to the noisy miner bird
singing joyful tunes at sunrise.

I live to see the wonder
of your gleaming eyes at morn’

greeting my mortality
like a feather flying
through the thinnest air with ease –

ending in the unknown
after sailing seven seas.

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