Elusive and beautiful
walking away, always walking away
to somewhere distant
A willing receiver of
her witchcraft and the many spells she
casts unwittingly
Touching dewy skin,
forever locked within her jet-pack embrace,
dreaming up a fiction
again
Category: Poetry
I Remember
I remember the way she moved
Blueberry stained lips
Warm fruit-flavoured skin
A flash of skin on high
Sitting authentically in the sun
Feeling things I could not fathom
Filling me with meadow hopes
Twinkling in the sun and the grey
I remember her on a carefree day
Haiku: Space
There’s too much of me,
occupying too much space
The bus seat feels small
Waves by Moonlight
watching the warm waves
a welling within, wet eyes
moonstruck by the waves
port1220 on DeviantArt
The Rain
In unison
standing to look towards the sky
to see rain
Unknown
to the test subjects, the rain falls
on concrete
Unable to
understand the emotional significance
they watch
Until their master calls them to stop
watching
the way the rain falls on the concrete
In unison
the robots move towards their positions
until one
turns to look at the rain for one last time
Green Nail Polish
the wave of those elegant hands
I smelt the poignant perfume before I saw her
flashes of green nails haunt me
Waiting for You
Between strands of my hair,
the image of an idyllic grey-green scene
A picture of you on the wall
the coming of rain, wind and crackling fire
Images flicker behind my eyes,
you are out there in the world without me
No protection from a calamity
you will be well, yet come home soon, love.
The Medium
The medium holds the moment,
a flickering flame,
drama and a crystal ball of glass.
Unable to communicate with people,
let alone spirits,
the dramatic tension increases tenfold.
Her eyes go wide as the spirit arrives,
bewildered and scared,
she holds her breath and counts to one.
The arrival and departure melt into one,
the gathering was horrified,
looking at the body that was once alive.
Dissipating Worries
A cappuccino with one sugar
sits on the sitting table beside the chair
waiting for lips to touch froth.
the forest cathedral around the house
moves and blows in the wild rain
and the wind tells all of her stories today.
A favourite blanket covers the old chair,
which sits near the logs on the fire
and warms clammy, squishy old buns.
The communion of two begins with a sip,
then continues until the sorrows
start to leave the witch's sweet light heart.
Hope from Nature
A joyful countenance
walking amongst the fairy tale snow-touched trees
A distant bird sings
a song to a plump bird singing and waiting for preening
A stillness overcomes
looking back to see footprints in the powdered snow
All the world is still
doom and gloom left at the door to appreciate nature
C & K 