Ochre Afternoon

The blind moves as the breeze flow through the window; I can see the change sun rays make on my skin, as my arms colour and look like desert sand.
The sun casts strong rays across the backyard, as the cobwebs move and drift between grass, weeds, the fence, and the bees dance on the weed flowers.
A song from the crickets, birds, a few flies, and the next-door neighbour’s air-conditioner puts my mind to sleep, as I soak up the last sunlight of the day.
A change in tempo is on the breeze, as the afternoon drifts into twilight, and the time for sweet soft days of washing going stiff on the line comes to an end.
The heat of the day is turning into the warmth of another ending, another night; I won’t miss what I no longer have on this sunlit day, for the night is bright.
One song is coming to an end and another song is ready to begin, so I fight with the pegs and the stiff washing: waiting for the first fresh Autumn day.

To sleep between the Snowdrops

Winter holds you frozen within her frosty grasp,
for she’s waited so long for jealous Autumn to go.

Your heart beats slow in her cold wild arms,
yet she knows Autumn’s fate will be her own.

The snow falls on to your hair and face to warm you,
as Winter dances her wild cold dance around you.

You love the way the snow makes your body feel,
for your heart is ice and your veins beat glacial water.

Sleep takes you into Winter’s slender arms again,
yet when you wake the sun shines down on you.

In the ice, you lay as your heart starts to melt;
then as you look left and then right you see.

You slept within the pines last night to your dismay,
only to find you did sleep between the Snowdrops.

The Snowdrops remind your heart that love is well,
as the shoots rise up from the ice to find the sun.