The Apples We Stored Away

consider the apple
a treasure
brilliant flowers in spring
ranging from pink to white
a light aroma lifts the spirit
of all who pass close by

decorate your chambers
with blossoms
beauty, bounty of life
after the glory of blossoms
come the succulent fruits

consuming the apple
a journey to paradise
in the presence of love

long past the time of ripeness
when the waves of passion subside
the apples we stored away
soften and wrinkle
their warm fragrance lingers
filling our rooms in winter
where we sit long into the night
in simple companionship

 

where does love reside?

they say love dwells in the heart
that red mysterious chamber
that pumps three billion times
if you are blessed to remain
for your three score year and ten
it’s so good to hear it beat
again and again and again
that reassuring thud in your chest
until the day comes
when you know that your heart
might need an operation
or a little adjustment
or even a replacement
and one thing i guarantee
it will stop in the end
it’s a fickle friend indeed

if love resides in the heart
how can we ever say
that it out lives death and stays?
i want my true love
to dwell in a safer haven
to be carried life to life
if such a thing is possible
i don’t want to forget
i want to be able to find
those people i loved
by some imbedded instinct
the next time around
and hope i may find them sooner
to not waste a single heart beat

so pump away little heart
while you are healthy and whole
but don’t expect me to trust you
to look after love everlasting
or control my deepest feelings
i will keep my love
wrapped round my soul
entwined with my deeper being
soaked into my essence
my ethereal whole
and all that’s essential
to be existential
in some other future world
my soul is always with me

 

 

 

Demons

they watched me
my familiar demons
always watched me
to seek a way in
setting their subtle
last minutes traps
never exactly a sin
more a delusion
or sudden mishaps

they watched me
i thought i knew them
pride before the fall
a deep need for freedom
self doubt and denial
no trust in love, no hope
faith always on trial
they used my own mind like a rope

they watch me now still
they don’t like what they see
i left their dark reach
i blocked up the breach
i am finally free to be
i follow my heart
they cant see in there
i don’t let them have the key

A Love Story ~ Rosa & Arjuna

Two lovers
separated
by the stretch
of open ocean
endless sky
moonlight passing
day to night

Arjuna’s window pointed west
While Rosa’s looked out to the east
Of their love they both were sure

Only water lay between them
Only time would be the test
Whether love could long endure

They had vowed to watch the moon
Each one in their lonely room
Far apart, but close in heart

They watched the silver face
Passing in and out of sight
Held aloft in lovely light

Counting moons
The months passed by
In time Rosa ceased to cry
She had now become enamored
Of watching starlit nights
And changing skies

Counting moons
The years passed by
Arjuna drowned his tears in books
Slowly he began to write
He described the stars
And all the glories of the night

He described all she saw
As they watched the sky together
Together yet so far apart
They reached a sweet contentment
Beyond the reach of lovers art
Contemplating all they saw

Did they ever meet again?
If fate was kind I think they did.
Where it was I cannot say.
May the light of heaven lead them.
The moon has never shone so bright
As I saw it shine tonight.

In the Dock

‘remember you’re loved,’ you said
‘always remember that’
like a life-belt handed before a storm
those storms i never see coming

but what happens
on monday, tuesday,
wednesday, this week
until the weather is fine again
on friday, saturday,
sunday, next week

it’s not about words
but the lack of them
sink or swim
I can’t ask you the reason
you won’t speak
you are floating way off-shore

you leave me
to think
on dry land
to work out
what I did wrong
and when I tell you
you will say
‘no it wasn’t that,
it was this’
something i never thought
something i never did
something misunderstood
you held onto
and kept to yourself

this time i wont think
and you can tell me
or not as you wish
you can tell me
the magic is dead
it’s not dead in my head
it’s not dead in my heart
it’s not dead in the world
it’s sitting waiting
for you to come back
from your sailing trip
so am I

The Red Rose and the White

My lover gave me a rose
It meant a lot to me
She placed it amongst my poems
Where it could simply be

My lover gave me a rose
I gave her all I had, gladly.
Her rose was a heart-felt gift.
Now I mark its absence sadly.

My lover gave me a rose.
It bloomed so strong and red
When she left she took it
Stale perfume remains in my head

My lover gave me a rose.
Now, in my heart, it’s a knife
It’s blade is the red of blood
But it will not take my life

My lover gave me a rose
And a rose is a lovely flower
As a symbol of love its complete
The thorns also have power

If I am asked to choose a rose
I would choose the one that is white
The rose of gentle love and hope
The one you can see in the night

The white rose is given in friendship
With a true and faithful heart
It does not burn with passion
Or vanish when lovers depart

The white rose grows wild at the wayside
Untended, uncared for yet strong
Touched by pink at its tender centre
Couched on a breeze and a birdsong

I don’t need to bind it or cut it
I love the white rose
It shines with compassion
It’s the fairest flower that grows

Sweet Repose

at end of day when all is done

and i am in my lovers arms

i fall asleep in sweet repose

counting all her charms

any troubles of the day

mean nothing in comparison

our love has washed them all away

our day has been replete

and full of loving smiles

her head now rests upon my arm

with the sinking  of the sun

and the circling  stars

all our dreams are sweet

 

 

 

 

 

A Question of Numbers

In one year we travel four billion miles around the Sun

Without even stirring a limb.

We dream fifteen thousand dreams,

Remembering almost none.

How significant those that we do.

 

In a lifetime we may see nine hundred New Moons

Twenty-five thousand sunsets,

Twenty-five thousand dawns.

How many do we really see?

How significant those that we do.

 

How many times might my love smile at me?

How many times will we kiss?

How many dreams can we make come true

Before time flees and is gone?

How significant those that we do.

 

If I thought I’d be gone tomorrow

What would I say and do?

Nothing significant

 

The light comes and goes across the earth;

A clock hand that sweeps us away.

 

Butterflies, unaware

 

 

 

On the Edge, but not falling

was i pretending to myself again?
is it all illusion, fantasy, delusion, that life is beautiful?
am i walking in the dark, thinking there are lanterns?

are there angels in the trees? did I dream them?
can love be forever? is it ever?
will i drown in clear air for lack of hope?

when my heart leapt for joy was that all a lie?
can the world be empty darkness, as i saw it today?
where has all the glory gone that i saw yesterday?

perceptions, happiness, despondency,
the ebb and flow, what’s true, what isn’t,
no clarity, no balance, clouded vision

shadows dancing on the wall in firelight
music heard far off, the shade behind the waterfall,
a leaf turning in light, falling, landing rots to dust

the echo of a voice across a valley far away, sun sinking,
frost that silvers the hilltops, the cocks crow at dawn,
a sense that all is born to die, overpowered, as it must

light reflected in a lake, rainbows over cornfields,
swallows gliding on the high still air, above the wood,
the dark smell of mud, these are things i trust

joys, sorrows, melancholia, laugher, tears
bring what they may or go as they might
remembered or forgotten over tumbling years
a pattern, night into day, day into night,
underneath all this one beauty, shining bright,
burning light, conquering fruitless fear
a celestial light, strong and clear
thats illuminates true love
and a straight path