drifting in the light
of a tender touch
letting tension go
feeling so alive
taking it so slow
let the loving flow
following the curve
she’s my violin
i sense her body sing
la la la –
her skin
that’s where it begins
rolling through the arc
sliding to the bridge
touching ev’ry nerve
reaching to the edge
coming down again
swooping on her sound
flying
falling in
flying
Becoming a Seagull
Deep in my heart the sun is shining.
The day clear blue and stretched sounds.
I can almost see, here from the ground,
my heart flying, swooping in air,
as high as a kite and gleaming.
Vertical take off to light,
a downward push of my hand
takes me up, into luminous flight.
I must be a bird, to reach up here.
The mountains spread out beneath me,
the revolving, rotating greens of the land.
I bank on a cloud, rolling, reaching,
tumbling, gliding, looping, I turn
on a breeze, diving deep to the sea,
slicing the spray and screeching.
I knew this would happen one day.
A seagull.
All I wanted to be.
Summer Storm
at the height of the summer thunderstorm
a red balloon
escaped from the village fete
the wind sped it along
the course of the river
past gravestones, treetops, roses
in the churchyard
the wedding guests ran for shelter
the bride clutching wildly her veil
flying higher and higher it climbed
into the towering greyness of clouds
a dwindling spot of colour, consumed