One soft spring day
In middling March
A gentle butterfly
Alighted upon the
Most glorious flower
She had ever seen
Startled by her attraction
To this beautiful flower
The butterfly at first shied away
Not sure of what she was feeling
Having both weathered many brave storms
They danced in delightful words
The butterfly was enchanted
And enjoyed being around the flower
Soaking up the love light & laughter
Of this truly inspirational flower
The birds sat in silence
to hear the poet sing.
Each winged note
pressed deep to their soul.
An everlasting call of love
greeting the heart.
Poets love birds
and feathers talk,
word-flutes of desire.
Reddening and rising,
the poet’s lovebirds
entwine all hearts.
“When they ask me what I liked best,
I’ll tell them it was you.”
~ City of Angels ~
Draw a star around us my love,
on this day of cherish where a year ago,
deep from a dream,
you washed me clean with vows of love.
Drink full my passion, quench each
word I wrap for you here in stardust.
Glittering, sparkling drops of dust,
which shine like a thousand suns
into my never-ending desire for you.
Let the arrow of love strike
at the heart of us,
as we walk this world back to Love.
It was not the flock of stars
in her eyes, falling from the sky,
resting upon the sea that led me.
It was not her voice pure as prayer,
a mist embracing, caressing,
dancing slowly that delivered me.
It was not her smile that drifted
silently across my spirit, the fire
of a new star sparkling that carried me.
“I tell you, someone will remember us,
even in another time.” ~ Sappho
And while the beautiful dreamers slept
Artemis rode her chariot into their dreams,
shooting arrows of silver moonlight
through the silken veil of night
as she lured Earth and Sky
to hunt once more. Aroused
under sparkling star-stretched light,
they spiralled into ocean blue.
Where Artemis lowered the moon,
that silent centrepiece, and spied on
each dreamer as they gave chase
to the memory of other waves.
Shamelessly Sky pulled Earth
to silky sands where silver tongues
fell, kissing until the light of heaven
shone, softening each dreamer’s eye.
Over the stile
and into the meadow
the summer breeze drifts.
As the two women,
walking with the wind,
wrap themselves up into
a landscape of soft, sea green
and a river that winds itself around.
Not the rocky mountain path
taken earlier that July,
the one that took them upwards
forwards, towards the sun.
No here, on the glorious South Downs,
where the breeze can be seen swirling
through many a twisted path,
brushing each poppy head
along the edge of golden lines,
into a green splendour that
unfolds down beacon and vale.
Into a rhythm of walking,
into a rhythm of soul,
where, with each fresh gust,
the women are blown along. Continue reading
If I knew you were light
I would have peeled back
Your layers years ago
At the sky
Just for a taste of you
I would have opened you up
Like a blushing girl
Just to see
What lay beneath
The light in those eyes Continue reading
I realise how crazy I must have looked
Rushing in like that
With my face all shiny with love
Firmly pressing my heart in your hand
No, really it’s too big just for me
I remember saying
And my writing hand needs a break
Besides, I’d really like to share
Oh look see how it suits you!
Honestly, it looks so good on you
And don’t worry
You’ll soon get used to the warmth
It was the weekend.
I jumped in my car. Took the wheel.
Followed the paper trail.
A picture of you.
I was not in the mood for happy endings.
Life just didn’t work out that way.
When my story,
not some myth or fairy tale
written, read and re-written,
Last night I dreamt I was a running stream with tumbling water
falling from my lips, and you, you were the hidden flower, a
compacted centrefold pressed deep inside my book of
hours, where an ancient summer burned and
petals scattered themselves, like soft
scented leaves, soaked in the
light of love that floated
across each page of
much I know:
As the moon slipped off her silken robe,
casting silver, liquescent folds over the lake,
two night-dresses slept on rocks below.
Where deep beneath the spell of summer,
lips of witchcraft and enchanted love,
we swam unwrapped in the moonlight.
Under ancient warmth we embraced,
each goddess glowing, soft moon shining.
With shimmering hearts we dived deep,
welcoming Aphrodite’s ardent, aching want.
Poetry saw every kiss, as wet with love,
our bodies lay bare the Mother tongue.