memories of her … … …

yesteryear … … …

memory slips,
                        slides,
cascades,
                 through the blurred veil of time,
        sifting through memories,

of you,
            your loveliness ablaze,

sweeping across meadows,
                  my stranded heart still in flames,
                 the furnace burning bright,
                          raging in the darkness of this night,
                  coaxing nostalgic yearning,

over years left behind,
             between thoughts of kisses entwined,
                
                 and still,
                 and yet,

this heart may never forget,
           the caress of your voice,

breezing between today,
           last week,

all the drifting yesteryears,
                     lost in your deepest eyes,

even as days turn to night,

even as time continually flies,

scattering pieces of my soul,
              hither and thither,
             knowing it may never be, again,
whole,
           ah! but the memories persist,
as summer begins to wither,
            you are all i remember you to be,

between the wild rose,
        amidst the thorns,

bathed in dawn’s dew,

I live,
        I breathe,
                        I savour,

the sweetest thoughts,

of you, only you … … …
           

my wishes are simple … … …

my wishes are simple,
desires few,
gazing upon a leaf,
nourished by dew.

my wishes are simple,
dreams hardly grand,
hearing birdsong in the desert,
together, hand in hand.

my wishes are simple,
my heart calm,
resting with you ‘neath the palm,

years rattling bones,
wrinkling skin,
greying our hair,
ever so thin.

my wishes are simple,
walking in the rain,

leaning on each other,
through life’s joy, pain … … …

Words …

Words …

he said that he would love me forever.

he whispered sweet nothings.

he said that it would endure.

he said all of this,
and all of that,

words that soothed,

cajoled,
promised,

the sun and the stars.

all said,

he said far too much …

Port of Call

Port of Call

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,

soothing pained memories away,

to the swaying of a solitary palm.

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,

on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,

yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,

as the tide cleanses all pain,

and leaves despair far, far behind.

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,

that hushes the ache of bygone moons,

tasting the salty tang on my lips,

as the burnished sun,

over the distant horizon,

swoons,

 

and dips.

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

searching, ever searching,

for a slice of solitude,

as memory bids a final adieu,

reaching under the sea so vast,

and seeking comfort in the depths,

while embracing,

the tomorrows to come,

wishing that they be true.

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

seeing my truths drown,

as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

 

feeling my heart ablaze,

with a passion that rarely falters.

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

yet knowing that I am home at long last,

wishing the waves would wash away,

the defences that once stood,

like an impregnable wall.

 

 

Barefoot on a talcum beach,

 

alone, not lonely,

 

I have found, at long last,

 

my final port of call.

Afloat on the River

Afloat on the rivers of life,
‎
rootless at times,‎

bogged down in the mire,

at times a lonesome twig cast into the depths of despair,

a vagabond sans destination, sans care. ‎

‎

The tides have washed me,

hither and thither,

never knowing where I would finally rest,

till you held my heart in your tender hands,

clasping it closer to your breast. ‎
‎

‎
All the while gentle ripples have steered me away from desolation,

breathing new purpose,

igniting fresh promise,

reaching around me,
enveloping my soul,

oh yes, ’tis you,

who has carried me through. 
‎

It is only now that I know,
‎
you are the river upon which I sail,

your love the wind at my back,

your presence a comforting respite from the detritus of the shallows,

while quietly you carry me,

towards the passionate streams of the lagoon,

rescuing me,

liberating my heart,

from the noose of the once omnipresent  gallows…

 
‎

The Cauldron of Desire

Inflamed by my wildly fiery desire,

I kiss the fluttering petals of your soft, sumptuous lips.

I tease you,

my ravenous tongue sipping the glistening, molten drops of alluring morning dew.

Inflamed by my wildly fiery desire,

I make love to you,

in my dreams of passion,

my dreams of sensual seduction,

dreams of our erotic confluence,

painting, sketching, dousing my dreams in colours of my naked desire:

burnished copper-red.

scorching scarlet-rose.

achingly beautiful crimson.

Inflamed by my wildly fiery desire,

I dream of you,

dreaming of making sweet, agonisingly delicious love to me,

and in this dreamscape of irresistible vistas,

I see your face.

And I dream,

I dream of you and I entwined in ecstatic bliss,

and together we find the place,

the only place we passionately ache to be:

in each others’ arms.

Eternally.

The Paths we Weave

The Paths we Weave …

Walking alone,

on these meandering paths this life weaves,

weathering the nudges and the tugs of destiny and of fate,

I have walked alone for many a mile,

but not today,

for today,

I weave through alleyways of solitude,

rinsing my cobwebbed memories,

seeking to steer my path,

gently,

so that this pathway of life may lead me to you,

where my only hope is that I am not too late,

as I place my soul at your hearts’ gate …

Seducing my Soul

caressing the seductively swaying marmalade roses,

teasing the stealthily approaching morn,

the smell of you lingers,

on,

and on,

as I lie awake and allow my vagabond thoughts to wander,

to the thoughts of you, seducing my soul entire,

as I sat,

and as I basked,

intoxicated,
teased,
raging,
transfixed,

and warmed,

by the healing glow,

that embraces your being entire …

Ashes

Savage lies, mercilessly spoken,

battering emotions, a heart exposed, nakedly open,

companionship was all that was sought,

not blue-chip bonds, hastily sold and bought.

The bonds I sought were simple,

peaceful nights, scribbling verse in unseen black,

delicately caressing words of love, my fingers tracing poems, over the contours of your soft back.

It saddens me to say, my thoughts were dreamed in vain,

and it grieves me see, the ashes of our love,

floating down the streets we walked,

scattered in the rivulets of this night’s pouring rain.

Alone I scribble this paltry verse,

the darkest of nights, in the midst of howling storms,

and though I may heal some day,

the memory of the ashes of our love,

floating down the streets we once walked,

shall remain buried deep,

until my dying day

A Promise of Love

Sprinkling kisses,
on dusty lips,

as,

knots of desire,
twist beneath the veneer.

A yearning heart,
dipped in a blazing cauldron,

knows not,
the coolness of the dew,

settling on the dawn petals,
lonesome as a solitary tear.

Cast away, floating,
adrift on the waters of fate,

I catch,
at last,

a glimpse of love.

Fleeting, impermanent,

yet,
poised to take flight,

to soar,
into the great blue sky,

while alone,
again,

I feel the tugging need,

of surrendering to the ocean,

and,
embracing the unknown,
in a slow dance.

A tango with truth, and with unshackled love,

as the dice rolls,

with the intoxicating promise,

of,
that final chance

The Elasticity of Love

Truth. Lies,

in-between,
teeming mindscapes,
arrhythmic heartscapes,
wildly cacophonous soulscapes,

all the while as truth slips through the cracks,
on time’s wrinkled face.

How easy it is to sew the heart up,
extinguishing the embers crackling in a soul,
dousing the fires of yearning when memories bubble up.

How hard to euthanise such fickle whispers,
cremating unburnt passages of loose-leaf verse,
delving deep into a core once pure, and now rotten.

Shunning pleas,
ignoring plaintive cries,
sewing up the cocoon,
I want to rest in dead space,

As I,
slip inside private nightmares,
awakening long dormant fears,
eliciting a flood of tears,

Till I,
find that belonging,
that peace,
solace,
not much, merely a trace,

of belonging,
in a far-off inaccessible place