There’s too much of me,
occupying too much space
The bus seat feels small
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
The Kitchen
The house greets us with fragrant smells
of citrus tarts, homemade lemonade,
and images of a long, familiar kitchen we love.
Stepping into the home from our childhood
we each process the way we feel
about the good and the bad memories made.
A nostalgia for idealised memories saturates
the memories we wish to deny
as Mum brings the teapot to the old cedar table.
The Croissant Moon
The croissant moon hides
behind faithful clouds
to have some alone time
The sturdy main oak branch
is a place to contemplate
our existence and the trials
The croissant moon is tired
form being consistent
so I will wait to see her again
80’s Beauty
Stilettos move the silence
a graceful chiffon wave lingers
red lipstick and long lashes
An apparition of 80’s beauty
Valentino vibes linger in the dark
She turns towards nothing
Unable to resist, moving towards her
the distance between us
A chasm one would dare not to breach
Wine bottle red lips and long pencil legs
falling into another dream
The apparition fades, and I am hot, alone