Set them free at the break of dawn, 98  floating over the sea like sporn.

Wind swept, tossing back and forth. Serenely they swayed from sea to land, following a course.

Caught on telephones wires, trees and roofs
Some in groups, some aloof.

The boy caught blue the girl had yellow. They ran ahead of lovers who were entwined with red.

They flew with birds and floated up high until they were just a dot in the sky.

98 flew one stayed. That heart shaped one belonged to you and I.

The bell rings as I open the door.
Red carpet covers the floor,
Mr Jones smiles, and sits in his nook
So many books
Do not know where to look.
Sections for writers and poets.
Shelves full of biographies and quotes.
Paper or hard backs, what a choice.
Writers like Tolkien and James Joyce.
Fact or fiction, epics and short stories.
Dragons and fairies, and books from the forties.
Mr Jones takes my money, and passes me my book.
Now rushing home to have a look.
Comfy chair, and a hot chocolate.
Ready to delve into the world of the Hobbit.

They gathered and flocked
Towards the heart which was locked
To a unnamed place
Where you could embrace

The early morning call
Could not be held by a wall
But to break the barriers
We will call the harriers

Now they have flown
And we are alone
The heart will be sealed
Till all the fields yield

Grey and dreary, stairs going up. Lifts going down.
Long platforms,
Rails, leading to where? Leaving the town.

Coffee to order, sandwiches to eat.
Trains announced "what did he say"?
What time, what platform. Where do we meet?

People getting on, Looking for seats.
Familes getting off,
Aisles, blocked with suitcases and feet.

Following the canal, boats and ducks.
Watching the roads,
Speeding cars and trucks.

Seeing the planes land,
Then taking off, wondering where?
Probably back to their motherland.

Eventually we arrive.
To outstretched arms,
Bringing the love, that makes us alive.

Standing at the edge of the beach
Seagulls crying, waves singing
Toes sinking into warm sand
Your footsteps leading away from me, leaving imprints

Standing at the edge of the forest
Wind whistling through the branches
Feet covered in damp cold leaves
Your footsteps leaving, kicking leaves and breaking branches

Standing at the edge of my path
Sad songs coming through the door
Feet covered in those old comfort slippers
Your footsteps leading away from the path and my heart

And me now....

Standing and watching you walk away
Left with memories, songs and heartbreak

We meet on the road and leave our mark as lovers.
The atmosphere is electric like the air left from a storm.
With one breath and a lonely kiss
We split and go our different paths of the crossroads.

Another week passes,
No contact just the wetness on our lips from the kiss.

We meet again on the crossroads.
Hearts fluttering with anticipation of things to come.
But once again just a kiss, deeper and longer.
This time we walk a shorter path together.

Days go by with thoughts of love and happiness.
Next time will be longer.

We meet and kiss on that short road.
This time the kiss was goodbye. Love was gone. Only memories left.
Will I walk that path again?
We will see.

There he is my friend
So tall, and swaying in the winter wind
To watch him from my frosted window
I want him for my beau


Long limbs reaching out to the dark
My arms need to stretch around his winters bark
Naked, except a covering of fine frost
He is free but I am lost


The stars and moon keep him near
To watch him change throughout the year
The clouds caress his boughs
I am his, if he allows

I look out again and there he is
Is he waiting for that kiss
He has grown so tall
and not bare at all

Limbs covered in colour purple browns and reds
I watch him from my bed
The sun explodes through the leaves
The moss grows like sleeves

The robin sits there so proud
And the blue **** sing so loud
He provides shelter and food for those birds
While the cat looks up and purred

I watch amazed of how he has changed
From winter to spring, limbs and leaves arranged
I still want him for my beau
Perhaps one day... " you never know"

Who’s lucky? I'm lucky.
She curled up on my lap.
That moment, I fell in love.
Can I give her back?

Those eyes so wide and frightened.
Her heart beat like a drum.
"Still that heart" I said.
I will not give you back.

She came into my home.
I placed her on the floor.
She sat, and looked at me.
Could I give her back?

She sniffed and explored.
What's this? what's that?
Then she peed upon the mat.
"Don't give me back".

I grew older. She turned into a lady.
We journeyed together down that love filled path.
Though she did not like her bath.
I did not give her back.

Then as all living things do.
She left me.
Leaving a hole in my heart that never filled.
And as you can see now I never gave her back.

To hear a Mavis sing.
Is like life beginning from a pool high in the mountain tops.
The trickling of water over stones is the sound of laughter from your heart.
The doe and fawn savor the coolness of the water. The mother and daughter as one.

The flowing water goes down the mountain arriving at the heart of a forest.
Where trees have wide leafy branches open and welcoming. Like your arms which enclose around me so two hearts beat together.

The water flows down from the forest with life. Till it reaches the pool.

Our pool.

Where we sat laughed talked and cried and sometimes only the sound of hearts beating and the Mavis singing.

You are not here anymore but that pool still fills from the mountain tops.  And I am not alone when I hear the Mavis sing.

House party,fancy dress.
What to wear? to much stress.
This year theme sci fi.
We had steak and ale pie.

Aliens, Daleks and Dr Who
Chili and rice too.
Wine, red white and pink.
Washing up in the sink.

Now it's the time.
For auld lang syne.
Let in the new, out with the old.
Shut that door it's ****** cold.

Young ones in bed, oldies getting slow.
Another new year with no snow.
Snoring has started. Who will be last.
Morning will bring the first breakfast.

******* by you,
Handcuffs and rope

Blinded by you,
Scarves and hoods

Deafened by you,
Headphones and music

Touched by you,
Sticks and whips

Senses deprived
Pain or pleasure?

Are You?

Master?
Kidnapper?
Or Lover?

Are lovers poets?
Or
Poets, lovers

Are Drunks poets?
Or
Poets, drunk.

We are lovers and poets,
And I will drink with you soon.

There lays my epitaph.

Drunk, lover, and poet.

The quill was poised to write.
Like a cobra ready to strike.
Ink on the vellum.
Thick like venom.

The pen held steady, to write words that are adored.
Words that pierce like a sword.
The ink does not fade.
Like blood on the blade.

Now we have a word processor.
With its own spell checker.
But nothing beats the paper and pen.
Like the cobra and sword, leaving marks now and again.

Looking through the broken windows
Seeing number 10
Oh! What is wrong with it shall we start again?

Opening up the folders
Shuffling through the files
Error after error
Oh! What is wrong with it shall we start again?

Talking to cortina
Looking over the edge
What's this you have downloaded?
*** we will have start again.

Deleted this deleted that
Ticked then unticked those boxes
Turn off then turn it on
That's it we fixed it no need to start again

Stood at the end of the street shuffling their feet
The viral spores attached and left their sores

Rambling,shambling bodies a flow
Hunger hunger where is the foe
Dressed for dinner dressed for bed
That little black dress is now a mess

No noise no communication  no how is the weather, they move smoothly together
They amble down the road as if somewhere to go
Only one way but very slow
Tirelessly they move towards the end
Together we hide just two friends