I’ll write when the sun is at rage. Commit when the dark hours cage. I chase words not recognition, the craft seizes me free to flow. We like blue tits playing kiss-chase in the hedgrow. I put down not for he,thee,nor she. I write not even for me.
The wonderwall came crashing, as the snow slowly melted at the vicarage garden. An I knew it to be true! Before its darkside played its tune. Before even the earth, encounted its moon. Stones that failed to wake, lights flashed blue. Calls rang unheard, heard only was dead as the second wave of phonics matchedContinue reading “I Knew It To Be True”
I’m not of this world. And as your eyes blossom in the new spring sun, I sense you’re not too. But while trapped in this world my heart belongs to you.
I labour, hands in dirt, hot sun on my back. All I have to offer is my heart, in this month of your zodiac. It’s the first day of the week, the sun is beginning to set. I search for words and metaphors, yet your lips, the goal i’ve set.
Her hair waved in the wind with the red ensign. The waves elated like a soul with rhyme. It was warm, dusk closer to night. Poets time, when angels visit to help bards write. Aside of me and her, and the warm Cretian air.
Feels like I’ve been here so long, so I strain to think back to when things weren’t so wrong. But all I see is my hands cuffed in a sweatbox, so I strive even harder, trying to forget about locks. No! I’m in a cold court cell, and like a scared snail, I retreat aloneContinue reading “Remembering”