your love was just like
the soft summer rain
warm wet and slippery
so elusive to my touch
but you quenched me so
when you finally came
and I wanted you so much

until you left me
in the desert
dying in the heat
an for a moment
I thought
wait
his water can't be beat

until I learned
to draw from
my own well that is.

Ma Cherie © 2017

When  you  are  young.
The  village  seems  only
one  field  away.
You  can  skip  it  in  no  time.

Middle  aged  it  feels
two  fields  away.
And  is  getting  a  bit  
of  a  bore.

When  you  are  old
it  seems  like  three  fields
Almost  Impossible  to  walk.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

Trapped on my pedestal lofted up high, shrouded by darkness, dreaming of sky, let me dance for you're enjoyment, let me pirouette and spin, release me from my prison it's you're jewelry box I'm in.

Today I felt the urge to fall down a flight of stairs, and when I say fall
I mean,
           jump,
                     plummet
                                   and plunge.

I wanted to feel something, a pain that wasn't already carried within me.

I could imagine the weightlessness I  would have felt as my body relaxed,
how time would have appeared hampered as if altered by my sudden descent.

That numbing pain as each step would buffet my spine and finally the  ominous silence that preludes my last breath while my misery pools around me glistening for all to see.

though sadly...


.             I live in a bungalow