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Beachcombing

A brisk wind and slow footsteps Seagulls cry and yet There is nothing found here High tide Low expectations

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Slip

You find yourself slipping. The cocoon has become uncomfortable.Your shut door edges open andLight is not welcome here. Strange languages embrace your ear.Meter rises, falls. A heartbeat.You hear lyrics but taste hell. The season is ripe for changing. You are swaddled, swathed,A straight jacket with no straight answers. You say slip.They say head first.

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We are Sailing

You want to go.Eight weeks and countingHigh season and low breezeNo thoughts for me. I plan the schedule prior.Move out.Set the status quo on fire. Leave me behind.Life on the ocean wavesSings higher. But salt water stingsAnd open wounds are not bathed.Your reflection smiles in the ripples;Shedding tears to the deep below. But still you’ll go.

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No matter

You say it doesn’t matter But it does And there’s a gap You want to fill But It’s too far And too wide And it’s far to deep And still you say No matter

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The last dance

She’s swaying to his music Slow tap heel and arms aloft. Notes stutter Sharp when it should be flat He should be watching his fingers But he’s watching her move instead. I stare, Dancing in my moonlight Cold in shadow Silent. Alone.

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Fruity

Strawberry kisses

Ice cream cold and twice as sweet

First taste of summer

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Eggshells

I am

Walking forward

Yet

With every step

More eggshells break

And I wonder how long

It will be

Before my stride is steady

And my heart is sure

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Princess

They told you

You would wear a crown.

You would be mighty and your

Rule would be great.

Rubies, emeralds, diamonds.

You stare into their glass eyes and

See it all reflected.

Fools gold.

You take you crown and run;

Royaly’s not for everyone.

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Journey

It has been months now

Deciding on where your journey starts

A hilltop, mountain, cliff.

Forty long years and you are still lost

Hoping your heart leads you to heaven

Whilst your feet still dance with the devil below

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voyeuristic

i can only dream;

directionless

scrolling up, down.

i am bound by petrification;

if an action is

louder than words

my silent

voice is an echo.

i sit quiet.

i stay inert.

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Have a jolly holly Christmas

There is nothing tonight.

The magic of Christmas is not quite and

Santa has lost his ho ho ho

And you wish you still believed

But you are empty and so is he and

You wonder if the next year will

Ever become the next year

Or if it really is a white Christmas

And if the very next day you’ll give it away

For free

Like always

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Swim

Smile and it’s

All going swimmingly

When they ask

But you know there’s

A fine line between

Floating and drowning

And it’s hard to

Keep your head above

Water when

Your stroke is off

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Bottle

You clutch your love

In a bottle to your breast

Cork in your left hand pocket

Careful not to spill a drop

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Curlew

Cry to end summer,

A curlew call.

Half truth and half tremor;

An evening suspended in doubt,

Bathed in sunlight .

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Rose

You find a rose Crushed petals Between rough pages. You try to remember a time When it was in bloom But spring found winter quickly And it’s hard to know When the cold set in.

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Different rooms

You say let’s Stick together but I heard That the glue upstairs Keeps the bedsheets Sticky for nights like these. Bed one, bed two. One for me and one for you.

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Supermoon

Six times bigger and Twice as bright, the moon shines her Lullaby tonight.