Perhaps it isn’t wise to love a sailor.
Good things sweep away in summer storms
but the tides are unpredictable
and times have changing patterns
when the breezes shift.
I left my compass in the cupboard
wrapped in faded charts
and i couldn’t see the stars.
I should have thought before I lifted anchor.
I should have thought before we left the land.
I can only tell you that I’m sorry
that I had to loose your hand.
tides
Flood
i wanted love to stay and grow
but wishing never made it so
the tides have turned
and now the river’s in full flow
the water only runs downstream
the consequences just sank in
the clouds have covered up my heart
as islands slowly drift apart
the land will flood
and i sit numb
Mer Sea
sweet tides
in the depths
the mermaid hides
where no-one goes
sweet tides
comb her hair
she swims up
when no-ones there
sweet tides
wash her near
her sailor waits
she need not fear
sweet tides
wash them close
they sink down
in loves embrace
sweet tides
where life grows
water warms
water cools
sweet tides
the currents flow
a wave to ride
or drown below
sweet tides
the sky reflects
green depths
blue above
sweet tides
in his eyes
sweet tides
pools of love
Horses and Wings
In your arms I feel water and fire,
cool streams and fountains.
I hear the beating of drums and the lyre.
I see rivers, valleys and mountains.
In your eyes I see moonlight and starlight
as they shine on the rising sea.
I see soft clouds spring open, sun bright,
and the flower that springs from the seed.
I see your eyes open wider in wonder.
I feel horses running in rain.
I seek lighting striking and thunder.
The storm takes me again.
I feel the tides as they rise
and your body as it clings.
We fly as our souls mingle and burn,
until the tide turns
and retreats in a sigh.
I give you horses,
you give me wings
The Music Room
two notes echo still
near the piano
they hover
middle C, B flat
a warm scent
jasmine and almonds
hangs in the air
footsteps
softly retreating
I remember that
whenever I think
of the music room
the passageway
door to the garden
open a crack
the window
looks out to the sea
where the tides
roll out and back
washed over grey
to the distant blue
The Dreaming Path 