Mark Heathcote Poems

The crickets are chirping like
There's a silver lining in every cloud
Like, even if there's lightning
It won't ever hit the ground.
...

There's no turning this hurricane
She bound for the mountain-heather
And fairer weather… fairer weather…
While I'm suspended in the sky
...

Our paths are dark, anchored to a porch
watching the stars snuffed out.
Asking simply, what's it all about?
Holding hands is what saves me from going insane
...

When does boredom set in?
And that niche heartache begins.
Who are the best player's women?
Or men in their hot cauldron.
...

During a monsoon summer
I welcomed your sunshine
Your yellow wavy hair and blue eyes
That transient sun shining gold
...

By the red moss rosebush
with a lantern-lit come to me
I'll paint you another world
with words whispered in the breeze.
...

I'm gearing up to leave, up tracks and hit the road
and follow the river wherever it might flow
because I don't belong here
and I don't care where I go tomorrow,
...

I'll swallow the sun, a segment of you
And watch the flowers dancing in the dew
And darling, you with eyes of violet-blue.
I'll watch the hummingbird in restless flight
...

I believe this midnight won't last
Although always in the wrong
Every fight has a looser and a victor
So I've got to display my plumage
...

Whatever dire situation - it blooms
It wears its dark parasitic consumes
It never freezes or covert the moon
like a lover missing the sun in June
...