The fire is laid.
The house is furnished
and here we are,
hopeful lovers,
passing by this way again.
No doubt the storms may sometimes blow.
We both still need to learn and grow.
This time though, it’s not the same.
Fear wont drive us both away.
The fire burns warm.
I fixed the roof against the rain.
This time darling,
through your tears,
you grew strong.
I couldn’t leave.
I had to stay.
You’re not alone.
We made it home.
the day is dim and poorly lit,
clouds are gathering in the west,
the leaves are shivering on the trees,
my shoes are worn, my pockets thin,
there’s no money left again,
the forecast warns of storms and rain
the shadows underneath the trees are full of hidden daffodils
the windows creak and draughts blow in
how bad can this old house become
there’s not much here to laugh about
this sort of joke is lost on me
the tap is dripping in the bath
the fire wont light, my cat is sad,
she’s curled up in a huddled ball
there’s nothing left to eat at all
the shadows underneath the trees are full of hidden daffodils
counting blessings I find some,
there’s still a roof above my head,
i still live, i still breathe,
my head is full of memories,
i can think, i can dream,
and winter always turns to spring
the shadows underneath the trees are full of hidden daffodils
When the storms of winter blow
and windows rattle, waters freeze
and the fire burns very low,
I’ll bring you home and wrap you up.
Our lights still twinkle in the dark
and we will drink the loving cup.
How many wrecks in the uncharted depths? Century after century of shipwrecks, seaweed shrouded and armoured in barnacles, iron ribbed rusted skeletons of the vessels they were.
Sea born we are by that life giving ocean that can swallow men whole, drowning in storms, when dark clouds are broiling.
Lost sailors bones rest on the bottom at a depth that is deeper than the height of the highest of mountains ~ fish eat their flesh, their bones a part of the sea ~ they rest there from war, work, exploration ~ they rest there now in water rocked graves where no sunlight, starlight nor moonlight can ever reach in the ebb and the flow and the sway of deep tides.
stars hidden in cloud
winds howl darkness, no mercy
a wave wall, a void
sea throat swallows, whole,
spinning, deep to sea grave,
sand grains their worn bones
wind drop, empty light,
nothing there on the surface
tranquil cloud mirror glass
(the title Twenty Four Shipwrecks refers to a figure I saw online when reading about Trawler Fishing in Britain – twenty-four was stated as the number of trawlers lost each year)
The Dreaming Path 