poetry ~ prose ~ reflections ~ dreaming
I think
but I could be wrong
It’s a hard choice to make
but I think
my favourite thing
about summer
is the sound
of blackbirds
singing
just outside
my bedroom window
early in the morning
They’re nesting
in the plum trees
just across
the road
and in my heart.
10 May 2018
Much of my days
are made up of
memory
The garden
is unkempt
overgrown
Everything
is wet
It has been
raining
I don’t
remember
when it started
My days
are also
made of
no memory
of forgotten moments
of loss
of time
and sometimes
place
I have
a honeysuckle vine
growing up
a trellis
except
it has gone wild
and is growing out
It slaps
at my arm
and shoulder
when I walk past
Drops of water
land on my face
I remember
this is supposed
to annoy me
Instead
it reminds me
that I am alive
beginning
that slow passage
through a verdant
English summer
And I get lost
remembering
summers
and fall
into fields
of flowers
that aren’t there
I slip
over that
small line
that separates
memory
from experience
from what was
to what is
and can’t
help but wonder
if that line
exists at all
On some
plane of existence
I stretch my arms out
and listen
to the rhythmic
whispering
of daisies
2 May 2018
The summer is slipping away
Some days I think you are too
Until I stop and listen to your heart
It’s steady beat inside my heart
A reminder that we are made of magic
You and I, no simple rules of Physics
Time or Space has ever held us
The gentle hum of the ceiling fan
Is distracting and calming
I lift my hand up in the dark night
To reach for the safety of you
and just as I close my eyes
I feel the soft spark, a tingle
as your finger tips touch mine
And your voice whispering in my ear
Voodoo, baby. Show me your magic.
And the soft exhalation of my breath
Makes me dizzy and the night is made
Of falling stars and cosmic promises
And memories of lips touching lips
The present is distracting
and not calming
I want to be strong for you, for us
Not lose myself in my darkness
In hopelessness and so much despair
But mostly I don’t want to take you down
So I wait and listen for your heart beat
And wonder at the whimsical nature of seasons
I wonder
will I always think of this as
The Summer of my discontent
Or will this be the Summer
I fell so hard I tripped myself up
Skinned my knees on life
One too many times
Reaching for falling stars
Reaching for you
I let myself sink into
The comfort of
Cosmic promises
And I wonder if you
And your voodoo magic
Can help me
Make them come true
I want Autumn to slip inside
Turning everything golden
As I climb onto your lap
Bury my face in your neck
And let your arms encircle
My trembling body until
We are just two hearts
Beating
