This is a gift I brandish alone
My sheath is my passion
My sword is my poem
Intellectual aesthetic‘s
My centre of pleasure
My creativity flows on
This body is tethered

People can make me feel quite strange
They roll their eyes and shake their brains
Seldom are they on the same page
Where poetry flows
In an aesthetic array

But this is who we are
And there is no need to change
The expanding universe
Is calling our names
...................

"...to live again."

As I meld back into the
scarred infinity,
daffodils blossom
in my frostbitten dimples
giggles run wild,
over the slumbering
reminiscence,
the tide's ebbing away
slow and sure,
I kiss the raindrops goodbye,
yet,
the child inside,
never seems to die.


"I wish..."