Snapshot 2

I saw a black sun today.
You were driving, which for me is a big deal as I’ve always been one to want to be in control. Not in a domineering, manly-man way; more like… actually, it’s nothing that complicated. I just prefer to drive.
But today, you were driving, and the verges of the motorway sped past while we moved in their shadow.
I played the game I play with myself. I spot just one tiny piece of road furniture – a barrier support, a particular cat’s eye, even just a hole or mark in the ground – and I acknowledge it. I focus on it. And I think to myself, “I will never see that piece of the world again”.

You said something to me, about how happy you felt, and as I turned toward you we left the shadows and my eyes were hit square on by the sun. It was like those videos of test nuclear blasts, an instant of pure, white light. This made me slam my eyes shut with a wince, and the impression the sun made behind my eyelids was a black sun. I refused to see this as an omen.

The Island Of Symi

My dear readers.
Are there any of you left? My life has gone through a few changes and upheavals and my creative muscle has grown flaccid. Weak. Nonexistent.
For the first time in weeks, I have managed to produce something new and original. It’s not my best, but it’s NEW and it’s a start back on the road to writing. If there are any of you left, thank you for sticking with me. I hope to start writing more again.
Simon.

The island of Symi, 
It calls me again, 
The sun and the sea
And the darling lost friends. 
Where balconies beckon, 
With views of the sky, 
A glass of red wine 
And a glint in my eye.

The island of Symi, 
Apart from the land, 
The fishing boat shadows 
Glow dark on the sand.
Where streets full of wonder, 
That narrowly twist, 
The scent of your perfume, 
The taste of your kiss.

The island of Symi, 
Oh, please take me back, 
The sea and the sun
Are what my life lacks. 
We’ll wander the narrows, 
And talk down the day, 
The island of Symi, 
Is where we shall stay. 

Stormy Skies

Goodness, another rather soppy one. I really must work harder at visiting the darker, more disturbed recesses of the mind as that’s where I find far more interest. Still, hope you like this one.
As always, thank you for reading.

It’s time that ticks away upon a
Rainy day with nothing left but
Wasted breath and aching bones
But what should I be doing?

The clouds they fly like harried ghosts ‘cross
Battered sky from east to west and
Seem to me a blanket dark
But who knows where they’re going?

And with the storm that gathers hence comes
Glowering mood within my breast which
Colours each and every word
And every prayer worth saying.

So with a sigh my back is turned ‘pon
Jeweled glass of rain soaked pane and
Battered window so secured
Though here inside I’m smiling.

For though the weather black it is with
Rain and wind and stormy skies my
World is filled with sunlights glow
Thanks to your very being.

Find The Sun

This one kind of fell out of me this evening. I’m not entirely happy with it, but it’s here now and published. Thank you for all those that have kept reading.

You ran away to find the sun;
Miles and years and lands away,
Where people knew the time of day,
And life was new begun.

You looked upon the shining sea;
Horizon far but in your grasp,
Waves returning sure to last,
A hope for what might be.

You left behind the pain of us;
Growing old with like of me,
Would drive you to insanity,
If living with mistrust.

You drink the view and loose a sigh;
Freedom now from past mistakes,
No longer now a need to fake,
Nor lie with crying eyes.

You stole the very heart of me;
I know the reasons while you fled,
To shield your soul that ached and bled,
But still it stabs at me.

You ran away to find the sun;
And this is all you so deserve,
A life of ease and no reserve,
A new world to be spun.

Morning

Sun has risen;
grant me one last kiss
‘fore day has grown
it’s wings.
The night was ours,
in starlights splendour
and breathless fervour,
but sun has risen.

Dawn has broken;
gift me one more smile
‘fore day has stretched
it’s legs.
The dark was ours,
in moonlights glow
and sweetened touch,
but dawn has broken.

Night is passed;
tell me that you love me
‘fore day takes you
away.
My heart is yours,
in life devoted
and time unending,
but night is passed.

Working The Land

Bent at the waist
with shovel in hand,
toiling in sweat
and working the land.

Sun like a weight
on shoulders and back,
colouring shirt in
sweat staining black.

Skin cracked and sore
on hands hard to close,
pain in the fingers
blooms like a rose.

Mouth parched and dry
craving water so sweet,
to sit in the shade
and rest blistering feet.

The vibrating silence
of furnace like air,
drying out skin
and sun bleaching hair.

But in his own way
he’s happy to stand,
and proclaim to the world
that he’s working the land.

You Are Summer

Come.
Walk with me,
through fields of
verdant jade.
We’ll breathe the scent
of golden sky
and summers promise
not yet made.

Come.
Feel with me,
the earth on
naked toes.
We’ll walk barefoot
and hand in hand we’ll
make believe the
world is ours.

Come.
Run with me,
away from
times cruel grasp.
For in this green
of summers field we’ll
chase our shadows
flying fast.

Come.
Lay with me,
with grass high
overhead.
We’ll watch the clouds
pass far above and
conjure pictures
in our heads.

Come.
Stay with me,
in summers
timeless pause.
If seasons show
hearts inner form then
without question
this is yours.