We Danced Around Our Shadows

I wanted to come up with something new for National Poetry Day. I hope you like it.
Much love,
Simon.

We danced around our shadows, the music calling forth,
With care our feet made patterned shapes,
The dark we skipped for fear of fate,
And though the hour grew so late,
Still we danced some more.

We danced around our shadows, our bodies ‘cross the floor,
To lose ourselves within the tune,
Your eyes on mine and showing doom,
Our mirror ball the shining moon,
Still we danced some more.

We danced around our shadows, stuck forever on our course,
The never ending drummer’s beat,
Forgetting what it is to sleep,
All the while not quite complete,
Still we danced some more.

We danced around our shadows, not what we bargained for,
To never now assume our rest,
We move as one at tune’s behest,
Eternity spent chest to chest,
Still we danced some more.

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Black Lake

Black lake, with shores of shattered bone,
An evil place, so cold like stone,
Where carrion hangs and bodies rot,
Where wounded souls are soon forgot.

Black lake, with waves that rock the boat,
All prayers are lost though said by rote,
Where mists conceal the waiting eyes,
Where calling voices spread their lies.

Black lake, where chilling wind does blow,
With white caps forming, just as snow,
Where ‘neath the water creatures wait,
Where careless hands will hang like bait.

Black lake, the place where I am bound,
No more to step on solid ground,
Where I will lay and rest my head,
Where ever now I’ll hold the dead.

Wait For Me

I saw this news story today, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-41310591
and it inspired me to write this. I hope you like it…

As darkness comes, your eyes to dim,
The endless sleep set to begin,
Wait for me, dear, wait for me.
As now your show comes to its end,
The winding path you’re set to wend,
Wait for me, dear, wait for me.
As slowly now your heart does cease,
And finally you find your peace,
Wait for me, dear, wait for me.
For how can I still stand a life,
Without my ever loving wife,
When years we’ve spent as two not one,
My glowing moon, my shining sun,
I will not carry on alone,
Wait for me, dear, wait for me.

Snapshot 7

I want to find a door, a door that no one has opened.
It will be hidden behind leaves of the deepest, truest green, through which the sun cannot penetrate.
Old, weathered, warped by years of neglect.
Written on the door will be the words “for you”, and I will know that it doesn’t mean for me, but in fact for you.
So I will bring you to that door. Hand in hand, we’ll walk toward it and I will admonish you to be careful, to be mindful of the dark shadows and the unseen trips and traps.
We will pull apart those leaves, branch by branch, and scatter them to the wind so that it snows green.
And then, with the door before us, it will be you who opens it. I do not have the knack of it.
Behind the door… what will you see?
Clouds, ball bearings, rivers on Mars? Fantastic animals or a million tiny flowers?

I just know that for years, the door will have been unseen, and will now only open to your touch. Behind it’s aged wood, such dreams and nightmares and untold stories will be seen, and if I promise to look after you, maybe you’ll walk through that door into a brand new world.