Mist Coloured Room

It’s cool and removed,
With a scent of the past,
Successes and failures,
Colour the mast,
And where I must stay
For my beauty to bloom,
Forever alone
In my mist coloured room.

It’s quiet and still,
A place to be heard,
The shouts of the world,
Take flight like a bird,
And where I must dwell,
And be gone none too soon,
Forever at peace
In my mist coloured room.

It’s locked and withdrawn,
A secret retreat,
The keys are all mine,
Kept private and neat,
And where I will live,
From midnight ’til noon,
Forever as one
In my mist coloured room.

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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.

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.

Lay Before You

The last I see, as I pay my due,
Lunar light, a kind of blue,
It casts a glow across your skin,
As I lay before you bleeding.

The last I hear, as I say goodbye,
Evening birds, they fly so high,
It drowns the words I want to say,
As I lay before you bleeding.

The last I feel, as I start to fade,
Coming cold, from dew it’s made,
It causes skin to start to cool,
As I lay before you bleeding.

The last I smell, as I lose my breath,
Perfume sweet, that stains your breast,
It calls to mind those happy days,
As I lay before you bleeding.

The last I taste, as I close my eyes,
Bitter words, in throat so dry,
The sorry left unspoken now,
As I lay before you bleeding.

Stand In A Room

Stand in a room,
Be one with peace.
No sound to disturb,
No noise, all has ceased.
Stand in a room,
Be one on your own,
No friends to stand by,
No lover to own.

Sit in a room,
Be still and reserved.
No need to feel lost,
No voices, not heard.
Sit in a room,
Be quiet and soft.
No thoughts in the mind,
No wander, not lost.

Lie in a room,
Be corpse-like and pause.
No mourners will come,
No tears, no applause.
Lie in a room,
Be missed and forgot.
No life anymore,
No joy, that’s your lot.