And so she took my hand and said,
“Come take to the air with me,
Why rest your head, and stay in bed,
When we could fly and be free?”
But with a sigh, I don’t know why,
I turned and spurned her plea,
“Flying in the morning light,
Is not for likes of me”.

So then she shook my arm and said,
“Come travel the roads with me,
We’ll see the fields, the farmers yield,
And see what creatures see.”
But with a scowl, a surly growl,
I hid beneath the sheets,
“It’s far too far to walk the roads,
And who knows who’d we meet?”

So then she kissed my head and said,
“Come take to the sea with me,
We’ll see the ships, the waves that whip,
The dolphins in their glee.”
But with a moan, to be alone,
I bid her let me rest,
“Such cold and wet and fright’ning yet,
We’d be swept out to the west.”

And so she bid farewell to me,
And travelled near and far,
I often think aloud and say,
“I wonder where you are?
Upon the sea, on hidden roads,
Or up above the clouds?”
But all is said with sweet regret,
I wish I’d travelled now. 


A Different Sky

Faithful readers…
A quick one, written without much analysis, to send you into your weekend. I hope you like it.

I want to see a different sky,
One not so blackened to mine eye;
I wish to travel to shores afar,
Where all I am can heal and scar.

I want to see a different land,
One shaped by nought but nature’s hand;
I wish to journey to empty earth,
Where tainted soul can be rebirth’d.

I want to see a different place,
One filled with love and friendly face;
I wish to visit such hallowed halls,
Where we are welcome one and all.

I want to see a different sun,
One burning so since time begun;
I wish to slumber ‘neath brand new moon,
Where hope anew is sure to bloom.

I want to see a different sky,
A whole new world to weary eye;
But all these sights grow quickly old,
Without you there, your hand to hold.

My Favourite Place

A life bereft of joy now dies
as there before my thankful eyes
a face to light a thousand nights
and cause all fear to now take flight.
She may disclaim her perfect form
when in the night all clothes are shorn
but to my body’s wild desire
she is the fan that drives the fire.
No journey’s miles would be too far
nor time so spent in lonely car
for once arrived at lovers nest
my weary soul gets sweetened rest.
So as I leave and make my way
through winters cold and darkened day
I know the end of road I chase
will take me to my favourite place.

Bullets To Last The Day

I wasn’t going to post this one – it makes me sound a bit mental / unstable… but it was how I was feeling yesterday morning, so why not? It’s not a love poem…

This stifling carriage
ferrying a thousand varied souls,
each mind a universe contained,
star’d with shattered gold.

The view subjective of world around
is seen unique to all,
yet empathy and simple care,
demonstrated not at all.

With snarling lip, impatient glare,
common decency precluding,
a push, a shove, a stamped on foot
to fight for space excluding.

Oh save me from these rushing minds
where rudeness so holds sway,
or better yet, grant me a tower,
with bullets to last the day.

Dark Roads

Down unknown streets with
faces dark I’d walk without a care,
as long as I would be assured
I’d find your presence there.
There’s nothing in this world of
fear I’d hesitate to face,
if knowledge of your presence dear
I’d see in darkened place.
I carry, dear, in heart of mine
your image in perfection,
and evil glass of wicked world
would still show your reflection.
So comfort me in all you are
and soothe my worried soul,
for though these roads are
fretful dear, in you I have my goal