Monday, 9 November 2009

A Little Friend

You’re sewn together quite beautifully.
You know?
I hope you do
From mind to arms and smiling eyes
I contemplate
The blue.
And dark- the centre, as of norm
But yours
A better black
You’re a novel from a library shelf
I borrow
(But never give back)
You’re pieced together quite wonderfully
You know?
Perhaps you do
A little friend, my little world
You’ll always pull me through.

Sunday, 8 November 2009

It’s delicate
A dainty dance
Of rocks
And cotton wool.
And now I’m hung
So tightly here
So empty that I’m full.
It’s perfect
In a wicked way
It’s magic, but it’s real
It spins me
Like a penny piece
A free ride on the wheel.
Amidst the fog
The sun shines through
As whitened as a dove
Lost a little…
Found again,
As fitting as a glove
And as I fall
So gently here
So happy it’s a sin
This orbit
That life spins me into
Makes me smile within
Oh perfect you,
This little world
Of rain
Of night
And thunder,
Is fragile
As a rainbows light
It sways me
Into wonder...

Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Just out the door and beside the flowers,
A touch to the right where the drain pipe showers,
Spills out a small path made from paving stone rock
Surrounded by reeds and a panelled dock.

Summers scent is still tossed in the breeze
And the memories weave in and out of the trees
What a year, what a spring.
Life’s a wonderful thing
What a you, what a me, what a wonderful fling.

But here we still are, now winter is stealing
The leaves on our trees and that warm bright night feeling
Take it with pleasure, for things cannot change
I’ll watch and I’ll smile, see the world re-arrange.

Summers scent is still passed In the breeze
And the memories weave in and out of the trees
But won’t you my dear, please always be near
For as long as you are It is summertime here.

Tuesday, 7 July 2009

When Morning Light Will Fuel A Thought

When morning light will fuel a thought
Those dwellings
They’re so real

When sleep is near and dreams are rare
You are what I feel.

And rain
It spills from such great height
It paints the pavement pure

Search the world a little, now
There’s good out there,
I’m sure.

The rain has washed the world again
The streets and walls are dusted

Monday’s sky has turned to sea minds a little rusted.

It can be a gem
Things can grow or go

But when sleep is near and dreams are rare
I’ll miss you
That, I know

Thursday, 22 January 2009


So many hearts…they say to me
Your words-
I fell upon them.
The flower is alone tonight
And I cannot condemn
Without a stem without the roots
There is no understanding
Whitened eyes
Blind to the world
Old life is too demanding
The lighting cuts
-It blinds sometimes
This ode:
it is my mind.
So does this mean
That now I’m known
I won’t be hard to find