frustration fills the air
our breath beats out our pace
no embrace is tight enough
to seal the bonds of love
glancing at your face
through tangled hair,
damp with sweat, urgent,
i look into your eyes
i hold you to my chest
i hear your moans express
a need for ever more
a need to leave this place
to fly
the planet is too small
the earth not great enough
to hold this burning love
the fervour is too strong
i hear the cosmos sigh
towards the urge of life
and children to be born
my heart is full of stars
i shower you with them all
my soul begins to fall
we call our angels in
to circle us above
suspended from their wings
love
Skin
passion is passing, affection is pure
love doesn’t have to be physical
i will quell this desire
but my skin is on fire
it burns to be touched
if I didn’t love you this feeling would never exist
there is no satisfaction anywhere else
there is no temptation I can’t resist
but my skin is on fire
it yearns to be touched
there are so many other things we can do
i don’t understand why i want this so much
it’s not the most important aspect of you
but my skin is on fire
it burns to be touched
turning my mind away as far as I can
filling my head with other thoughts
thoughts that cool, hoping for peace
but my skin is on fire
it longs to be touched
I Never Knew
I never knew how true love was
Until after my father was gone
I never knew all the things he did
The care and kindness he hid
I never knew so many things
I drifted through life unaware
I thought I knew where I was going
Until my father was gone
He tested me
He challenged me
He was always there
The rock in a stormy sea
I never knew he was proud of me
Until those last years of Sunday leisure
How can you measure anything
Until it’s over and gone
Hidden Weeds
with this sorrow comes the sorrow
of every loss I ever had
it’s a pool of hidden depths
full of hidden weeds, obscured
is this the same for those occasions
when I’m glad? do i recall a well of joy?
gladness seems to stand alone
no predictions and no source
I know too well the ebb and flow
joy transcends all of itself
that moment like a rising wave
that bubbles up with light and air
today I cannot turn the tide
I sleep the sleep of constant loss
I’m sick with sad complexities
and all the tears I ever cried
if love were simple, as I think,
this stream would never lead
another sorry sigh away
but would swim me back again
The Princess & the Snail
Long ago in Timbramil
There lived a princess fair
Upon a lofty hill she dwelt
A crown adorned her hair
Her name was Princess Tourmaline
She rarely ventured out
So little had she seen of life
She never went about
One day her fathers Squire came by
He persuaded her to go
And look about the world a bit
Her agreement was quite slow
But at last she ventured forth
Through the garden gate
She saw the flowers and fountains there
And lingered til quite late
Her little feet were growing tired
so unused to walk
so she rested with the Squire
to have a little talk
Ah! then the princess saw a snail
Beneath the scented trees
Her face became quite pale indeed
She fell upon her knees
‘What is that?’ she asked the Squire
‘that spirals round such flesh.
Do the people eat these things
And do they eat them fresh?”
The snail looked up in total shock
”Surely you aren’t FRENCH!?” he said
Curling tight within his shell
and fearing he’d be dead
”Oh, he spoke!” the Princess cried
The Squire looked away, unsure what to say
The Princess took the Snail straight home
And kissed him every day
The moral of this story is
‘A chance remark and innocence
Can make us fall for anyone
And lovers have no sense.’
Thanksgiving Quatrain
Give thanks for the air that fills you lungs
And the heart that still beats in your breast
Give thanks for all the love you’ve received
And for every time you’ve been blessed
Give thanks for the sun that rises each morning
And the sweet gentle rest of the night
And the dreams that come when you open your mind
And the bright stars above so bright
Give thanks for the times you could help a good friend
Give thanks for a strangers wise words
Give thanks for the food on your table each day
And share what you have with the world
Fear Not Winter
we are children of the sun
fear not evening when it comes
fear not winters failing light
when our hearth fires burn so bright
though the snow is on the ground
with the shadows gathered all around
the stars are shining brighter up above
and our hearts are filled with warmth of love
come with gladness
come with cheer
come to bless the turning year
we will sing
we will bring the Yule log in
pine and holly from the wood
as we share the deep red cup of glowing wine
come with gladness
come with cheer
come to bless the turning year
we will dance
we will hang the mistletoe
i will kiss you once again
and await the springs returning of the wren
So Simple
How simple it was to be in love then,
when we were only a boy and a girl.
Imagination had magical powers,
a cloth of bright colours,
shot through with silk
reflecting the light.
This was a love
that belonged to the fields,
hidden hedgerows,
sweet scented bowers
furnished with branches,
bean can cups, ivy,
pebbles and leaves,
a paradise, of glorious hours,
where summers haze
wrapped us in dreams.
Now that I’m older,
after long, tiring years,
all that i saw,
all that i felt,
showed me less about love
than I knew then.
Let’s be children,
so simple again.
Seven
One for sorrow.
Time is borrowed.
Lost and broken by our fears
All our dreams will fly away.
When we know our days are few
We treasure all we have by this,
No time to waste in bitter tears,
The years will pass us soon enough
Two for joy,
When dreams come true.
For every sorrow, comes a kiss
And love is found, in simple things.
Profound delight, the way to bliss,
The bursting throat, the leaping heart,
The song of life the blackbird sings.
Bring the rainbows, bring the flowers,
Joy is brief and flies away.
Remember it in darker hours
Three for the gentle girl i met.
So easily she passed me by.
I never thought to question her
Where she went or even why.
Three times she passed,
Three times she went
And now she’s here,
Before time’s spent
Four for the boy, now a man
He tries to grow, he tries to know,
He tries to do the best he can
And in the trying finds his strength.
Five is starlight’s silver sparkle.
The moon above shines down on us,
Pulls the tides where waters flow.
Silver rings and ankle bells,
Unicorns and secret spells
Mark the paths for those who know,
In the land where magic dwells
Six for gold, the loving cup,
The treasure of the alchemists
Wrapped in story,
Ancient rhymes
All the mysteries unfold
Seven, the secret never told
The one we learn as we grow old
Seven Sisters in the sky
And all the stars mapped out above
Predicting love and harmony
And we so blind we do not see
Eternity may beckon us.
The wise ones never know the answer
There is no truth in certainty.
***************
Based on this old magpie omens rhyme ………
One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven for a secret never to be told
Broken Wings
Romantic love is a fragile thing;
joyous, beguiling, appealingly sweet.
At the first fearful thought it flies away
a trembling bird on a shattered wing.
Frightened away by too much enquiring,
too many questions, best left unasked,
too honestly answered, unwisely perhaps.
In the garden, where once was a breeze
that gently seduced and played with your hair
there now comes a storm that bows down the trees
tugs at the branches and strips all the leaves.
I heard the twigs snapping in two.
We lash the trunk to a stake for the strength.
We discover how shallow the roots are sunk.
Love grows stronger or love lies wounded.
There is no denying the truth.
The lessons of Cupid and Psyche
are as old as the well worn challenging hills.
We wander and wonder
and never will learn not to ask.
I hand you healing as best I can
to conjure the summers return.
A simple concoction of words could suffice.
You didn’t hear me.
You didn’t heed them.
You heard only bad weather news.
Now we don’t talk about love any more.
We lost all our sense of the deeper feeling.
Now the door to my heart is sealed
against storms, real, imagined or fleeting,
by your, oh so kindly said, gentle words:
‘I will always love you, truly, I mean it.
I will always love you my darling one,’
and then, oh, so revealing,
resounding throughout every possible meaning,
that final, heart wrenching
‘But…………’
The Dreaming Path 