Cinnamon Rolls
in conjunction
your fingers move across my lips
licking sugar
sweet rolls do bake
the intense heat in the kitchen
perspiration falling
an intermingling
the rising rolls look to be ready
beeping starts
sugar and spice cover the floor
Category: Poetry
Smell, Scent
memories
the scent of what was
haunting my Spring days
Leaving me in the Winter
ghosts
what was and what was not
dancing with me in the misty mornings
sitting with me as I read about other ghosts
dreams
the smell of what was
black and white, sometimes colour
thinking about you
A Rendezvous
connected by a spiritual cord
the scent of flowers
far from each other
yet both smell the scent
connecting together
so far from each other
their vision fogs
both run for the door
a rendezvous
The Afternoon Sand
Blue sheets in the sky
a deepening afternoon colours the sand
indigo, purple, and blue
Standing together in front of the camera,
locked in a beginning kiss
the loving tide behind
the sea towards the horizon
Reflections and vibrations
a journey to this moment of rapture
two no longer separate
standing together on the afternoon sand
Sunny Love
Licking the inside of my lips watching the scent of her uncut flowers Blowing daffodil hair in the breeze Aching for a kiss, to be kissed such beauty in the urbanised garden Is she the witch from all of those stories? intensifying scents blur my vision She moves closer, and closer, and closer amongst the long grass, I am defenceless Gone from the consciousness of the living she is present, yet there remains nothing else The natural world appears to be vibrating I am under her spell, her control She straddled me and won't let me be free Alone in the long grass awake from a dream, or was this reality? Dishevelled and soaked my shoes have left me to feel the grass Birds sing about something Lipstick kisses on my feet and hands
Seawater
on our adventure
travelling to distant lands
on the computer
dreaming of foreign cuisine
imagining seawater
The Ceremony
The ceremony is the beginning and the end. Shape-shifting reveals her hidden desires. Wolves in the forest, life and death are interwoven. A foreign voice speaks; unrecognisable, yet it is her own. Smoke and mirrors, horrors and joys are interwoven. Dancing to a silent drum, the forest can feel the energy. Spirits of the dead rise as the world of the living and death blur. A cleansing of herself reveals a cleansing of the forest; they are the same.
In the waves
a knotted stomach
too much stress for one person
she calls from afar,
or is it just my rumbling stomach?
a watery foot sensation
the smell of saltwater in the office
running towards the sand
finding closure in the waves
Recovery
A fog hangs
dreaming vision
A cup of soup
laying down low
A dim room
listening to birds
A whisper from beyond
visions and dreams
A cup of tea
winter winds move
A hug and a kiss from you
washing away death
A naked sleep
wishing for you
A leg wrapped around you
folding into rhythm
A journey into the fog
whispers of love
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Feeling the texture
Rubbing your nose and a leg
Another grey hair
Today is another day
An over-forty birthday
C & K 