Poetry | Stories | Photography
A dark room,
the smell of roses and
breathing from the bed.
Alone and waiting,
wanting to touch;
quickening from the bed.
A touch in the dark,
the room melts away and
so do the sheets, clothes.
A play of shadows;
moonlight from the skylight,
ecstasy in the dark.
Emotions take hold
a sense of things coming together
Embracing fate
Emotions betrayed
an inability to hold on to formality
Eyes well up, run
Emotions in motion
a meeting of two on the verge of one
Everything we want
Footsteps on the stairs,
a reminder of what was to come.
Remembering times with the one you loved,
love, live with and love
as a ghost.
Feeling the warmth from
a favourite spot now your spot.
Rewinding, repeating, replaying memories
of the way she moved, the shape of her, her
warm breath on your neck.
A flutter, notes vibrate
and he takes your hand.
A feeling, two alone
and dancing hand to hand.
A flood: emotions,
and you know
his hand is the hand for your heart.
No one to greet you at home
No home to hide from the madness
No way to know what will come next
You meet a stranger on the path
You see an angel in disguise, a reflection of a ghost
You find yourself in her house sipping something sweet
Standing at the door
to your room, you
are oblivious, her gaze.
Standing, looking at you,
thinking of your hair,
feet, the way you love.
Standing still hoping you
won’t notice the way
she lingers, doubts much.
Standing by the door,
you feel the presence
of your beautiful star.
Standing behind you,
you know she looks at
you with so much love.
Standing there, you pretend
not to notice, to feel
the warmth from your sun.
A gloved hand, a bracelet, a smile;
Behind those starlit eyes, many desires.
A reality, the ways of hair, a smile;
Behind that skin no lies, only desires.
A beauty, grace, charm, a smile;
Behind those bright eyes, longing desires.
Hidden underneath,
yet glimpses of those
eyes, lips, hair, beauty.
Before me, she stands,
a marble statue forever
etched into my memories.
Thoughts of Catholicism
from childhood days
burn through my heart.
Burning candles, flowers,
the smoke of incense,
her ecstasy on my skin.
A wanting, like a Giovanni
Strazza, as the pew bends,
candles flicker, vision fades.
Another new day, another war ends.
Out with the old, in with the swing.
Another candle burns down, spills;
electric lights would spoil the mood.
Another flapper dress bounces,
someone else does the dancing;
I’m sitting at home, cool as a cat,
relaxing in my fine haberdashery.
I’m waiting for no one, just the cat.
Another cloud bursts, like his heart,
when someone shot him a year ago.
Another dead soldier for the cause,
though I wonder if it was worth it.
Another set of thoughts race by,
as the emotions of widowed bliss
set in, consume the atmosphere,
keep the cat from venturing over.
Another record to spin, as I dance
with his pillow to our joyful song.
A deceptive lover,
Debonair, rich;
all the qualities
so many want.
An afternoon rendezvous.
Stars in your eyes;
no need to feel the
alarm bells ringing.
At your home,
in the garden;
watching the
twilight become night.
As the sun fades,
you notice changes;
no longer the person
you expected, wanted.
As the knife falls,
shock fills you;
so much blood
on your precious flowers.
