Falling Snow

A strange subject this one, inspired by a picture I saw while in London today. Hope you like it.

We sit reflected
In the window, our silence
As the
           Falling
                      Snow;
Your lips in pregnancy
With words
Not brave enough
To flow.

The coffee black on
Table spilled, drips down
Upon
          The
                 Floor;
And in your eyes
The message clear
A heart loves me
No more.

This wintered season
Bleak and cold, causes
Temperature
                       To
                           Fall;
But nought in winter’s
Heralding, chills
Bone as loves
Recall.

Remembering the
Nights before, the times
You lay
             Me
                   Down;
But now the potency
Once felt
In bitterness is
Drowned.

And as cascading
Snowflakes drift and
Shower
             From
                      Above;
I’ll hold to hope that
Summers rise
May still rekindle
Love.

Reblog : The Beekeeper Approaches

It’s been a few days since I had the time to write anything new, and so here’s another reblog. It’s different to my normal love / evil posts. I have no idea where the idea came from, but this is one of the ones I’m pleased with. And it’s got the word ‘twixt’ in it! Hope you like it.

The beekeeper approaches
in mind controlling all,
his bees in multitude did swarm
‘twixt hive and garden wall.
With smoke of scented poison
he caused a rushing swirl,
the bees in panic flew around
with tiny wings a-whirl.
Like blackened snow in blizzard struck
their bodies flew about,
the beekeeper in canvas suit
stood resolute and stout.
With angry buzz and wicked barb
defensively they flew,
but the beekeepers protective cloth
would not let stingers through.
What allegory could be struck
through images herein,
with beekeeper and honeyed hive
and swarming bees within?

Stolen Gold

What stolen gold could pay the price
Of shattered dreams and wants.
When jewels of beauty, fire and ice
Do nothing more than haunt.

Desire thwarted with a sigh
And darkened moods takes hold.
A deadness seen in distant eyes
Where once a passion bold.

To turn away from what once was
And spurn the coming storm.
To spite a lover just because
Reveals the mask that’s worn.

That with ease torn quick asunder
Proves hard to fix and mend.
Silenced by the coming thunder
Of that which shouldn’t end.

To rewind time and start anew
To reset life’s cruel game.
Take back those words though spoken true
Erase all thoughts of blame.

What stolen gold could fix this pain
And make things as the start.
What jewels of beauty, fire and ice
Could mend a broken heart.