Heat is heavy with moisture
weighing down the grass,
the tendrils of my hair
wet and wayward from
...
How long is too long?
A minute more without you
will stretch to eons in my heart
I have not met you yet
...
soup simmers om the stove
arpeggios of garlic harmonize with sage
with the counterpoint
of coriander calling out for salsa
...
A gleaming cloud
all framed in silver
will introduce
the lady moon
...
I've never met you
yet I miss you,
miss the feel, the touch
the sense of you;
...
Should I be grateful
that you hurt me?
Carved me back and forth,
left me in tatters
...
I wept.
A strange word that,
it looks so odd there
on the paper, no sense
...
More than pretty cards
on paper, more than
chocolates or wine
more than dinner
...
I saw you a moment ago
lost between my lashes
at the corner of my eye
I saw you, I knew you,
...
I touched a soul or two
along the way
trying not to bruise them
as I smiled and waved
...
not happy in this moment
pressure in the eyes
presages tears
but not the kind
...
words are dust
across the mirror
swirls of rainbow shadows
buried in the ice cream of my soul
...
I live, I breathe
cold light playing
on my skin
morning with an entourage
...
Tonight they painted sunset
with a lavish hand
splashing red across the blue
to make a lavender so deep
...
words stumble on the threshold
so close, so close to air
so close to being spoken,
so close to taking shapes
...
I love you
three wisps of breath that
make pulses leap at wrist,
at throat, make hearts stutter
...
can you feel me still
floating on the edges
of your dreams?
A pulse added
...
I sit alone
your hand takes mine
your arms slide gently
curved about my aching shoulder
...
I throw words at the world
paint balls for random spatter
random sweeps of colour
drowning out the darker moments
...
I write because I love writing. I make my living through the spoken word as I work in radio. I live life to the full.)
Time Shifts
Heat is heavy with moisture
weighing down the grass,
the tendrils of my hair
wet and wayward from
restless fingers teasing
a sweat soaked scalp.
Moon shrinks from full,
so quickly losing ripeness
moving from mother
to crone in moments
it seems. So quick,
so quick the years flow
child on the beach,
woman dancing
then grieving for
the babe unborn
the lover lost
the subtle signs
that blur the eyes
and then the edges
of the body once so
crisp and clean and young.
Still strong, still vital, full
of all the needful things
with powers and persuasions
all unknown to youth.
Maiden, mother, crone
the trinity all women
house within.
your poems touch me deeply