She stood hair of scarlet
a beacon on that lonely hillside.
Beneath the tilt of clouds,
more black than grey.
Silent, void in all, her qualities.
Her derelict stance
made me stop – to glance.
If one falls; if –
Her body faltered –
China pale, descending petals
kissing cold, the granite of whitest
Who will light me a candle
on this barren night?
For in this bittersweet reek of living alone
I am to come undone.
My deceits have left me all mislaid
I battled hard those disliked
tendrils of ache.
Willed to purge them with my bile Yet– should I hold my self
in tainted censure –
Are men not born ill-fated; weak
so open to persuasion.
Should, lacklustre climates;
gather about our feet.
Then surely, we can seek out
that warmth, so absent from the hearth.
May, well my love, have blazed
her hair of red.
Alas, for me; it never seemed
to warm our bed…
A couple of evenings ago I did something rather impulsive (for me).
I had come across someone on facebook whose photos and poetry blew me away.
I emailed Anwar and asked him if I could write a poem to one of his images.
He kindly said ‘yes’ the result called ‘life’ is below.
I would urge everyone to take a peek at his work you will not be disappointed.
I only hope my words live up to the image ~xx~
Mouth watering wild strawberries; on this most
delicious of afternoons.
fizzy wine – has us flat on
Heck it is so damn hot –
Kicking of my shoes
the short grass delights between my toes.
I feel like a child on a picnic where
all the rules have been removed.
Refusal to enjoy is not on our menu today.
Staring up, at the palest intimate blue of sky
with not one single cloud, to spoil the view.
I watch a plane –
hanging there, lifeless, as if about
to suddenly drop.
Can’t quite decide if it is over us or not.
Nevertheless I wave and blow them a kiss.
Being next to you makes me feel
heady – like a giggly school girl on her
first real date.
You pull me close
we meld, like two
pieces of hot buttered toast.
Warm breath – alluring breeze carried
on the kiss I present to you
‘Let me tell you something’ I whisper
‘Tell me’. You say’!
But we neither converse another word.
I taste you, sweet wild strawberries.
Palpable silence, echoed only in the picking of
two lovers bones… –