Tag Archives: love

Spicing it up

Posted on by
5 
Basil had finally arrived
in Arizona dreaming
of repeating Krakow nights
with his saffron love,
Garam Masala.

After leaving sunny Paris
they had spent thyme 
watching Tuscan sunsets
before mulling spices
into a mural of flavour 
for adding some Aleppo pepper
to their long awaited reunion.

Laced with dill,
pickled appetisers set
a savouring mood 
for their evening

Cumin, coriander paprika
zatar and mustard seeds
ensured the main meal
was saucy, spicy and hot.

Sea salt, lemon grass 
fennel and sesame seeds
added potentcy to the salad

Nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla
heightened their senses
throughout dessert.

By the end of the meal
they were ravenous
for the after dinner mints.

Merril set this week’s dVerse prompt for we poets to spice things up using at least three of twenty-five listed herbs, spices, flavors, and spice combinations. For a bit of fun, I chose to cook up something that used them all.

Choice

Posted on by
5 
this is a prosaic story about choice, choice is thirteen. choice is growing up in a fairly well to do neighbourhod. she has all the things the other options in the street enjoy, a neat house built by free willy (her dad), an allocated amount of pocket money in return for contributing to keeping the house ship shape (as her dad always says), three meals a day chosen by responsibility (her mum), a bike for moving around her immediate environs (which she has never extended) and an obligation called obligation (her pet black cat with a collar and tinkling bell to warn away the birds).

choice likes her life. it is predictable and secure and fun and she never has to worry about what to do next because there is always free willy, responsibility or obligation to let her know.

the other options in the street are pretty much the same. they go to school to learn how to behave away from home, they join clubs and play sport to understand how to be organised and they sleep comfortably tucked into warm beds with soft toys and billowing duvets and down filled pillows and electric blankets for the colder nights.

they all think waffles for breakfast are a delightful Sunday treat and one hour of tv each night is enough to keep them talking all the morning after. it never occurs to any of them life could be any different.

then one night something different happens anyway. choice feels it in a change of the wind, a new taste in the air, she feels it when she wakes at 2.36am to cramps and a bitter chill that makes her turn up her electric blanket. something is not right and she squirms and twists fitfully in bed for the rest of the night such that she wakes to a crisp bright sunny morning exhausted and grumpy for the first time - only to look out her window and see old mr routine next door being wheeled out to an ambulance never to be seen again.

the new neighbours come from some other place. they play a lot of music and always seem to be fixing and constructing in their backyard, their front yard and their house. choice can see an easel in the bay window opposite her room and a mess of paints and palettes scattered around. choice feels very uncomfortable about this. she knows proper people are always neat and tidy, careful and predictable. she and her family avoid these disruptive new people. free willy and responsibility say they don’t want choice introduced to anything or anyone who might be a bad influence.

at school choice sees the new boy from next door. he is in the next year and he also looks untidy, but whenever he is around choice can’t take her eyes off him. he moves differently, acts differently, speaks differently and when he turns her way it feels like he looks into her instead of at her. choice experiences uncertainty for the first time in her life. this boy unsettles her in ways she hasn’t felt before.

days go by, choice making no choices, just being choice, except she finds herself looking for the boy at every opportunity. find him she does like a a bee finds a flower. she finds those deep grey eyes swinging toward her as if he knows she is looking, as if he wants her to be looking.

without knowing it choice begins to find reasons to be outside in the street more often, obligation gets a leash, the bike gets ridden more than ever, a daily constitutional becomes a health necessity, chores start to be delayed or missed altogether, other options are no longer considered of worth.

then it happens and nothing is ever the same. he is waiting for her at the gate after school. would she mind if they walk home together? they are holding hands in minutes without knowing how or when, they are talking without pause, laughing and listening in wonder. at his house to say good bye he brushes her cheek with his lips. his hand lingers. she never wants him to let go and choice finalises the choice she doesn’t even know she is making. every future choice flows from there and then.

This week the dVerse prompt comes from Christopher Reilly. It is about choice. I chose to write a poem, but I couldn’t make it stick. It turned into prose, a short story and that happened, so here it is.

Good Things Only #16

Posted on by
1

OK, so it’s a beautiful morning. Cold, about 1 degree when I got up. Just a touch of frost. The grass is very green and I can’t see a cloud in a very blue and crisp winter sky. The air is sharp, crystal and the light breeze has a bite that penetrates. Nonetheless (I love that word), it is a beautiful morning with the stripped bare deciduous trees revealed in their all their steak naked glory and the evergreen indigenous trees contrastingly clad in their full, puffed up grey green winter coats. It is a beautiful morning. It is silent except for the gentle rustle of that surprisingly penetrating soft wind. Oh, and the always there hushed background tumbling sounds of water spilling and falling, running and spinning, turbulent and dashing over flat granite shelves into rocky hollows and against small stray boulders pushed along by the intermittent pressure waves of variable winter flows as they surge with irregularity down the creek. It is a beautiful morning.

Against the cold I am wearing my favourite jumper. There is no heater on, just the layers of clothes capped by this marvellously insulating and cosy thickness of wool are keeping me warm. Lovingly knitted by my loving wife, it only really gets a look at the world in winter. It is too warm most of the time for wear in other seasons. I think that is what makes it all the more special. The built in love and warmth reflect its specialised purpose.

It is big and old, enveloping, creamy and embossed. These days it is a little on the stretched, sagging and droopy side (giving it a 10 on the affection scale – which as everyone knows is the top score for a jumper). It sort of hangs around me rather than is worn by me. In fact it could be called an affectionate jumper. The first of its kind and a quality to be aspired to and emulated by all knitters who learn of it.

The crew neck now has a cute little “V” shape from under which diverse collars can peek. Otherwise the knitting has held its pattern for years, making it sort of tight and loose at the same time. I love the detail of its repetition. This jumper has character. Maybe it even is a character in its own right. Yes, i think that is right, it has become a character in the story of my life because I have an emotional attachment to this jumper. We belong together. And that’s the way I like it.

vicissitudes of life

Posted on by
3 
From birth through growth to the time of decline
From decline to decay such a time is mine
For all that went before for all that went astray
For all that has been given and will be taken away

I see many patterns unfold around my life with the wisdom of hindsight
I see the brightness of knowing through latter years insight
As the past stretches out behind me the future road becomes short
The decisions I have made will shortly come to nought

I take one last chance to pass on the learning of my years 
One last chance to give advice to those to come if those to come have ears
For history is our greatest teacher in handling the vicissitudes of life
For human nature is our undoing when handling the inconvenient truths of advice

Secure your future with love and enough wealth is the best advice I can give
Working to this end gives hope which gives purpose to how you live
Start early and start young to earn a path to joy and be your very best
Don’t deviate from this path but keep it flexible and ensure rest

Loss may strike you without notice grief may rock your solid floor
Grow from your loss for better to turn haunting to past lore
Change will come unanticipated and shake you to your core
See change as opportunity to put a foot firmly in each door

When love comes your way hold it closely to your heart
If love lost should leave you reeling be proud that you took part
Know you have been loved and can love again because love is all around 
If one thing is known it is we all want love with time it may be found

Translucence

Posted on by
Reply 
She was translucent in that you could see her much as you could see anyone else in the reflected light of the sun. But even more so because that very light, the light of the sun, seemed to penetrate her flawless fair skin as if the silky smooth surface was entirely opaque. It gave her a subtle inner incandescence, slightly phosphorescent with those self emitting hints of blues and greens that warmly peaked in her eyes and the waves of cascading hair.  Her teeth showed it gently sparkling through in a radiant white smile, as did her fingernails and earlobes adorning hands and face with beckoning ripples of a delicate halo. Also, it appeared to come out the other side of her as a a soft white aura. One that flowed behind her like a short comet tail. Present, but never quite seen. Gently wavering before your eyes fully caught on. A ripple across space. In such a way you knew of its definitive presence despite its elusiveness. 

Everyone wanted to know her. Absolutely, and me more than most.  She gave me a feeling of desperate hunger - for what I could never be quite sure. It felt like I could be satisfied with just ..... a look from those penetrating eyes, a touch with those sensuous long fingers, any form of acknowledgement. However, I also recognised unreality when I saw it. In reality I wanted everything she would never give and that scared the shit out of me. 

For a long time I had longed for her from afar. Drained of other interests, preoccupied with dreams of passionate love and warm companionship. Yet whenever I got close I found I had only a faded shadow of myself to offer. Dulled.  Stultified by her imposing mien. 

Standing in a dark space she exuded a glowing presence.  Her very own unique light. Standing in a light space she somehow overcame the ambient lux with her very own lustre. She could not be unseen.

So, I watched from a distance instead. The best thing I could ever have done as I saw one friend, champion, lover, partner, suitor and sycophant after another get irreparably burned. Scorched to the point of disfigurement by a desirable body and a vital heart, a quick brain and a ruthless mind, an unsolvable enigma beyond anybody’s ken. Eventually, I understood that for all the attraction of that internally lit, beautiful, vibrant, illuminated woman, her translucence meant no matter how close you got, no matter how hard you tried, no matter what you applied - I and no one else could or would ever see into her, just right through to the other side. 

This was an infatuation I would survive, but even today, years later, the mystery, the hope, the longing, the anticipation and speculation have never fully subsided.

I always try not to

Posted on by
6 
I missed you from the many everyday and milestone events in the life of a child and mother’s son
Although I always tried not too
The other deaths in the family to come
I always tried to avoid them as well
The ailments, injuries and recoveries
The aspirations, failures and victories
The exploration of new learnings
The celebrating of new skills
The sharing of self discovery
The chore taught domestic fundamentals 
The sharing of hopes and sadnesses
The soundings decision sharing 
The turmoil of adolescence
The breakdown of family
The need to talk when there was no one at home
The anonymous housekeepers who worked on their own
The living  with grandparents who couldn’t understand
The attempts to erase your death
The problems and joys of schoolboy life
The holidays in your absence
The welcoming of new friends and girlfriends to our empty home
The experimentation
The wonder of a loving wife who might have been your friend
The graduations and award ceremonies
The choices about where and how to live
The arrival of children you would never know and who would never know you
The financial advice and life counselling 
The support during child raising
The new jobs and directions
The sadnesses and hopes
The welcoming of our children's partners
The arrival of grandchildren 
The transition to retirement 
All the things we could have enjoyed together, but never got the chance
I missed you in all these times
And every now and then I still do
Although I always try not too

Lessons in love

Posted on by
1 
 
 Yearning
 Devotion
 Tenderness
 Disturb your equilibrium 
 
 Ardour
 Amorousness
 Attachment
 Just let them come 
 
 Endearment
 Affection
 Move in your direction
 This movement can’t be smothered 
 
 Sweetheart
 Dear heart
 Give your far and near heart
 Wherever to your beloved 
 
 Hold it 
 Extol it
 Embrace, enfold it
 The desire for your one and only other 
 
 Give it
 Take it
 Taste it
 The passion for your lover 
 
 Freely love
 Don’t measure love
 Pleasure your love
 Give no reason for redress 
 
 Miss your love
 Kiss your love
 Bliss your love
 Speak your love, confess
Trust love
You can love
Appreciate love lost
The benefits you will see
 
 In love 
 Of love
 For love
 Love was, is and will be

Their hands

Posted on by
Reply 
 
 Their hands when they touch
 Flow from rolling of wrists
 Each touch is a signal
 Each touch is a kiss
  
 Their fingers are folding
 On whispers and secrets
 Cupped hands are holding
 All ahead that will be
  
 Their fingers trace circles 
 On their palms telling futures
 Tender are the touches 
 Of their hands as their tutors 
  
 Their hands rest together 
 One on top of the other
 Their hands mark their measure 
 Their harmonious hands
  
 Their hands spread out 
 Open and true
 Telling each story
 Each soul on view
  
 Hands hold each heart
 Supporting each core
 Their hands do the learning
 Of what more to adore
  
 The extension of hands
 The parallel lines
 Pads of sensitive fingers
 Their dreaming defines
  
 There are fists and  shaking
 The are dips and rise
 There are quivering fingers
 Before flickering eyes
  
 When hands arc with arms
 To gracious embrace 
 The lovers say nothing 
 As hands touch each face
  
 Delicate lines are drawn 
 Across  soft skinned cheeks
 Then with touches to  lips
 Mouths start to seek
  
 Two seeing hands
 guide the blind
 Sensuous and caressing they massage
 to unwind
  
 Four hands synchronise
 to breathe in kind
 in waves of love
 entwined

life is to death as tears are to rain

Posted on by
16 
Bright is the light that shines on me 
as I dwell finally 
in deathbed reverie
the doctor he talks 
and talks and he talks

my wife she weeps 
and weeps and she weeps
and time it creeps
and creeps and it creeps

what is this light that shines above
lights pallid face of death 
to my love
the darkness it resists
and resists and it resists

in brilliance it glows
and glows and it glows
in radius it grows
and grows and it grows

this light that calls me as my light fades
this light that draws me 
to the night of shades
with death it walks
and walks and it walks

my feeble hand I raise and wave
I waver and it waves
faces watch uncertain so grave
grave and so grave

I see my hand stir dust in the air
second last thing I will see anywhere
the dust it wafts 
and wafts and it wafts

my brow is mopped 
and mopped and is mopped
my hand drops 
I drop and it drops

as dust I settle back onto deaths bed
into the pillow sinks my head
life’s weight I shed
I shed and I shed

looking down into the room
I am surprised it is lit 
by only gloom
the husk has collapsed
collapsed collapsed

hollowed of life
of life and of life
beside my wife
my wife my beloved wife

the dust dispersed draws my spirit in
and back to dust 
I go again
the gift I leave is small but complete
I was loved and I loved 
I am replete

Today’s dverse prompt is from Laura, to write words of departure based on your choice from a set of quotes. I chose the quote from a favourite and most remarkable movie – “All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.” Roy Batty, Blade Runner.

Juliet and Romeo

Posted on by
5 
Juliet
is all slick and wet
her long hair in her eyes
she has been hit
by an idiot
drunk driving by 
bye bye

Romeo
roams idly by 
sees the girl on the ground
He looks at her 
quizzically 
then realises what he has found

Juliet
breathes in gasps
as blood pools under her back
She looks up sees Romeo
last look last love
as limbs go slack

Romeo’s
not much you know
but this time 
things are different
He wipes the hair from glazed eyes
and wonders where 
her life went

Juliet
rises above the scene
She watches Romeo
He cradles her head
gently in his lap
He whimpers out a moan

Romeo
struck by love’s full fist
his only love has gone
He whines he weeps
at his loss
Death into his soul creeps

Juliet 
bears final witness to 
Romeo’s last testament
“Did my heart truly love till now?”
he whispers
For the first time 
he knows what love meant
“Good night Good night”
“Thus with a kiss I too die”
He declares to her 
death pale face

Romeo 
bends his head down
tenderly brushes her cold lips 
with his own
he lets her head down 
lightly beside him
as he lies quietly beside her
takes her right hand
with his left

Romeo
from his pocket
retrieves a knife
meant for other men 
he eases the blade
between his ribs
it finds his broken heart
As blood pools under his back
his life is also gone

Juliet 
utters one last cry of grief
before she disappears
or was that one last cry of relief
in hope he reappears
for never was there a story of more woe 
than this of Juliet and her Romeo

Ingrid’s prompt for this week’s dVerse poetics was “Homage to the Bard.” I chose to write a poem approximately on the theme of Romeo and Juliet. https://dversepoets.com/2022/04/26/poetics-homage-to-the-bard/

The beginning of a life together

Posted on by
12 
We first lived together below Tawonga Gap beneath mountains capped with snow
In a Happy Valley cottage by a valley threading creek, the Happy Valley flow
Where trout could be watched hunting or basking below the surface
And rocks were smoothed and sandy beds were lit by sunny luminance
It met the Ovens River at the bottom of our hills
Joining other tributary waters of mountain rivers, creeks and rills
Where the crystal waters ran clean, clear and bright 
Where the snow melt chilled the river deep to summer’s great delight

We shared an abandoned cottage dusted off for our loving residence 
After approaching the farmer about its rental and to make his acquaintance
That small cottage at the bottom of a gully became our first home
With surrounding hills and mountains our romantic place to roam
Where the land about us and its occupants were both so ancient and so old
And the farmer who was born there had so many stories to be told

The days were long our backs were strong as we stepped outside the door
And the fruits of our labour on the block fed us more and more
We took the offered chook manure from the empty runs out back
Enriched the soil, dug the beds, sowed farmer’s seeds, we did not lack
The planted seedlings turned to vegetables as if by magic overnight
Their abundance when we harvested fed us and friends heartily every night

The dairy herd had long since gone and beef were the local stock
But one house cow remained for butter and milk beside the dairy block
Daily hand squeezed from her teats was milk so creamy and rich
It was hard to drink, and harder to say we thought we couldn’t stomach it 
We had to tell the farmer not to deliver each and every morn
But he was good he understood stopped delivering without scorn

At days end an historic long tin bath bathed us once water was heated hot
Soothing us and cleaning us of grime and sweat gathered on the plot
The back step was the place to sit for weaving, sewing and repair
The hammock was the place to hang and relax either alone or as a pair
To hear the wind, to feel the still, to think and to contemplate
To reflect on the newness of life together, the pleasures to appreciate

And now forty years on I still think back gratefully to that time
With certainty of knowing here were the foundations of a life together
This life of yours and mine

Today’s d’verse prompt came from Laura, to write a pome recalling some specific thing or things from the past. https://dversepoets.com/2021/11/09/poetics-in-the-light-of-other-days/

The Photograph

Posted on by
12 
when weary travelling an image of you I look at when I rest
your portrait kept in a locket of gold warm between my breasts
I see the small photograph and am reminded of what I’ve left
with longing I wish to be home again my head upon your chest

For today’s d’verse prompt from Sanaa I chose the derivative Option 2. To think of a word. I thought of “image.” To use a derivative to create a poem. The derivative I chose was “photograph”. https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/07/poetics-dungeons-and-derivatives/

Parting

Posted on by
Reply 
 
 I know I won’t be missing you
 Because you live in my heart too
 It’s not about having your body here
 In my mind you’re everywhere
  
 You also reside in a time and space
 A place of love of ethereal grace
 That supersedes corporeal and now
 That’s my commitment and our vow
  
 We've shared our lives together as one
 With room to grow, make our own fun
 As I watch you go and that time closes
 I can’t think of what the future poses
  
 Yes it hurts, it’s unbearably sad
 But it’s also a marker of the joy we had
 Of the pleasure in each other’s company
 Of everything that will stay with me
  
 No matter what becomes of us as an earthly pair
 Always in my heart you'll be everywhere
 So rest my darling have a peaceful night
 Tomorrow we’ll see what comes of light
 Though parting is near even in plain sight
 We’ll be together forever come what might

You complete me

Posted on by
11 
When I’m suffering you are comfort
When I’m gross you are delicate
When I’m angry you defuse
When I falsely accept you refuse
When I’m tired you are energy
When I’m stupid you think for me
When I’m injured you like to treat
When I’m messy you are neat
When I’m hard metal you are gossamer soft
When I’m the basement you are the loft
When I’m cold you wrap around
When I’m noisy you make no sound
When I’m down you cheer me up
When I’m timid you play rough
When my boat is sinking you bail me out
When my voice is weak I hear you shout
When I’m dull you are sharp
When I’m empty you fill my heart
When I fight you patch my wounds
When I’m near reefs you take sounds
When I’m defenceless you fortify
When I am passive you defy
When I make sense you mark my words
When I don’t you shoot barbs
When I sketch you paint our world
When I'm straight you are curled
When I’m at bottom you are the tops
When I am crime you call the cops
When I’m sweet you are sour as lemon
When I’m sour you are sweet as heaven
When there's rocks in my head you are sphagnum moss
When I am matt finish you are gloss
When I’m woodwork you are craft
When we struggle you find a raft
"You complete me"

seanmathews.blog
strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry

“You complete me” from Jerry Maguire1966, is my chosen quote to write to for this week’s d’verse prompt. Mish challenged d’verse poets to select a movie quote and incorporate it into a poem. https://dversepoets.com/2021/05/25/poetics-go-ahead-make-my-day/

The shallow of looking deep

Posted on by
Reply 
 
 
 I’m still drowning in the water of you
 My feet can’t find the bottom
 I don’t know what to do
 It’s like all we’ve done’s forgotten
  
 I know it was a blind step
 A leap into the dark
 When straight after we met
 I let you leave your mark
  
 Now I wonder what that time was worth
 Those years since spent together
 Now I give a wide berth
 To your dark and stormy weather
  
 I still don’t know you, I never did
 What is it that I was missing?
 Disappointment of which I’m never rid
 A deflating balloon, ever hissing
 
 When I reflect on you as a person
 You’re surrounded by a wall
 As I watched our relationship worsen
 You never heard my drowning call
  
 Was your silence about making a choice?
 Or were you incapable and you couldn’t?
 Could you not hear my pleading voice?
 Everything about you said you wouldn’t
  
 Did I simply miss you’re shallow?
 Because I was always looking for the deep
 Is it there was nothing to really know?
 The wasted years make me want to weep

strathbogie poetry

strathbogie photography

The vicissitudes of life

Posted on by
Reply 
 
 From birth through growth to the time of decline
 From decline to decay such a time is mine
 For all that went before for all that went astray
 For all that has been given and will be taken away
  
 I see the patterns unfold through my life by the gloaming of hindsight
 The illumination of knowing through latter years' insight
 As the past stretches out behind me the future road is short
 The decisions I have made will shortly come to nought
  
 I take one last chance to pass on the learning of my years 
 One last chance to help those to come if those to come have ears
 History is our greatest teacher for handling the vicissitudes of life
 Human nature is our undoing when handling the inconvenient truths of   advice
  
 Secure your future with love and enough wealth is the best advice I can give
 Working to this end gives hope which gives purpose to how you live
 Start early and start young to earn a path to joy and learn to take your rest
 Don’t deviate from this path but keep it flexible to be your very best
  
 Loss may strike you without notice grief may haunt your very door
 Grow from your loss for better to turn haunting to past lore
 Change will come unanticipated may shake you to your core
 See change as opportunity to put each foot firmly on the floor

 Wealth does not mean riches just resilience and security
 For you, your partners, your dependents, your growing maturity
 Be love and wealth empowered so that choices can be made
 Be moral with you choices and ethically do not fade

 When love comes your way hold it closely to your heart
 If love lost should leave you reeling be proud that you took part
 Know you have been loved and can love again because love is all around 
 If one thing is known it is all want love and with time it can be found

Lover’s touch

Posted on by
1 
The curve and swing of shapely hip 
Inclines my eye to stray aslip 
Invites a touch a lover’s grip 
That pulls you in for ear lobe nip
 
My hand upon your rising chest
Tells me how deep you are at rest
The rate and depth of rise and fall
Is enough to tell a lover all
  
The fingertips that stroke my back 
Are fingertips with lover’s knack 
For tantalising or powerful pressure 
To change a mood for love or leisure  

My lips upon your upraised mouth
As tongues flicker lightly about
Full and soft moist and wet
I cannot forgo I’ll ne’er forget

The foot that strokes my leg in bed 
Before we sleep each night has said 
With this caress I love you each night 
A touch confirming love’s delight

The cheek that absorbs teardrops weight
Is the cheek I brush for comfort’s sake
At the pleasure of our love’s great joy
At grief’s sadness when loss employs

Partners: are your blind spots ruining your relationship?

Posted on by
Reply

I am so fortunate to have been with my partner for a wonderful 40 years. Sometimes I slip into self congratulation because I feel we have been in a loving sweet spot for so long it makes me very happy to think about it. I try not to take this for granted at any time. However, I do forget periodically and find myself thinking we have everything sorted. I am sure no one does. You both have to keep paying attention

Paying attention requires the ongoing element of mindfulness. To remind myself to be mindful, every now and then I read or listen to stories that may shed light on how relationships work and fail. I think it is a good practice. I continue to learn. From the article I am sharing below I better understood a particular destructive relationship dynamic, invalidation of a partner’s perspective. This understanding can be applied to seemingly trivial concerns. These apparently small things can accumulate to have dramatic outcomes. Are you receptive, perceptive and empathetic enough to see both sides? I think it is worth a read.

apple.news/AhKWnHVxARZOYHvb7Y5BhJg

Seasonal visits

Posted on by
Reply

Come and see me with autumn’s fall

We’ll share the light and colour

I‘ll always answer your call

Come and see me in winter time

When the wind blows cold

Makes our warmth sublime

Come and see me in joyful spring

When the world renews

Our time for loving

Come and see me in summer heat

When we can seek cool places

Where and whenever we meet

Or come and see me forever one day

And we’ll stay together

Forever always

If it wasn’t

Posted on by
Reply

If it wasn’t for your touching me

I wouldn’t know what touch could be

If it wasn’t for your sweet embrace

I would never have looked into your face

If it wasn’t for your sparkling eyes

I wouldn’t have seen just where love lies

If it wasn’t for your soft  whispering

I wouldn’t know my heart could sing

If it wasn’t for your soft warm kiss

I would never have known what I missed

If it wasn’t for you warmth at night

I wouldn’t know what two just might

If it wasn’t for your body bare

I wouldn’t have loved you everywhere

If it wasn’t for your faith in me

I wouldn’t know how far to see

If it wasn’t for you my own true love

I wouldn’t know to rise above

I hold this all so close to me

I use it all to keep me free

So I’m the one I want to be

The one who loves. You eternally.

Two meals a day

Posted on by
Reply

Time for dinner

Well, we all knew what that meant

Time for the end of the day

Time to send friends on their way

Time to come in from outside

Time to come out from your room

Time to stop homework

Time to put down that book

Time to race to the bathroom

Time to tuck in that shirt

And brush your hair

Time to scrub those hands

Polish that face

Ready for inspection

 

Time to transform from

Rough and ready rascal

To be seen and not heard

 

Time to never be late

Time to take your designated

Place at the table quietly

With bowed head

Time to await your plate

Time to scan the newspaper

Standing tall in thick fingered hairy hands

At the other end of the table

Only the front and back pages ever viewed

While mum dutifully served

And offspring mutely ate

An unchallenged meal

Of meat and three veg

Tinned fruit

and milk for the weeds

 

She spoken to but never heard

They spoke at and ever erred

Sitting in silence always unnerved

 

Once fed desperate for dismissal

Before something went wrong

Before the security of bed

Where the anticipation of morning

And a new day unhindered

Would see a smiling chatty woman serve

And happily scold misdemeanours

In a bustling kitchen full of life

Breaking our bread

While the breadwinner toiled away

At that unhappy and mysterious place called work

Captivating and unexpected

Posted on by
2

Heading in opposite directions,

I saw her across the intersection.

The lights changed,

we both stepped into the street.

My eyes instantly locked onto her attractive pale oval face.

As she came closer our eyes met fleetingly.

She was captivating and unexpected.

After that first time I saw her

she became a recurring

dream.

 

And yet, we had not exchanged a word.

It was the light in her eyes that concentrated my attention.

They sparkled with mischief, fun, delight and  joy of life.

They were irresistible.

I intuitively knew they were telling it true.

Despite never knowing it before,

I knew Immediately I had been looking for those eyes forever,

looking for the person behind them all my life.

And there they were,

passing me on the road,

disappearing as fast as they appeared,

part of a human wave heading home from work,

also irresistible.

 

I have heard people say the first thing they fell in love with

were their partner’s eyes.

Well, these were those eyes.

They spoke to me directly, urgently.

of being together,

telling me there was more I must learn here,

all the things I needed to know for the right future

were behind those rich brown eyes

with the big dark pupils of evening.

Just those two deep pools of enticement alone were enough.

They called on me to throw caution to the wind,

to surrender myself to the yearning,

to give up everything for her

 

And I would have right there and then too

had not we been separated

at the very same instant we didn’t meet.

Moved by the pressed bodies of a dense compacted throng

going one way and the other,

as we passed I turned trying find her,

earnestly scanning the back of

as many sombre grey hats, coats and heads as I could,

engaged in a process of rapid fire elimination

until I caught my foot on the curb and stumbled.

I looked again.

She was gone.

 

Every following evening I waited at that corner.

Enveloped in my own dark winter proof cladding.

Examining the crowds.

Scrutinising every office worker heading home to dinner.

Muffled and reserved.

I sought that same light, that one bright spark, that point of difference

in the fast fading dusk of shortening days.

My own hope fading

as each short day felt longer and lonelier.

 

It was on the same day of the next week

she reappeared.

A Thursday.

How could no one else be alert to her quiet warm aura,

gently glowing against a background of gloomy evensong,

the trudging of homeward bound feet.

I fell for her.

I mean literally.

I was so preoccupied with not losing sight of her

I darted across traffic and was bowled over at her feet.

She almost fell over me.

She quickly sidestepped,

bent over,

put out her hand

and pulled me up.

All in one graceful movement.

She saved me from a trampling

and alternate futures

I didn’t want to contemplate

 

We stepped out of the human tide

into a shopfront vestibule.

She asked if I was alright?

I wasn’t. I was so embarrassed

I couldn’t speak but,

she just smiled

she straightened my coat, looked

me up and down,

said “That’s better” and asked would I like a cup of tea?

Three hours later we were still at that little table for two in the Block Arcade café.

 

Those eyes told no lies.