They say I'm pretty good with words
but the tunes they just don't come
you know if I could make the notes align
I'd write you a song to make you shine
and have Kylie come and sing it
in your living room

Cynthia Pauline Jones 7/10/2014

You said you'd find a way
to be mine one happy day
I can't tell if you meant it
or said it just for play

I know that you have
no motivation any more
if indeed you ever had
to make your way to my door

All the words in my head
won't get you into my bed
despite the love in my heart
we'll always be apart

Cynthia Pauline Jones 15/10/2013

The love whose name
I dare not speak
lest I implicate her
lest I expose
that she once professed
to love me too
the love who for me
will last forever
she loves another
and we can never be
can never share all
yet we share secrets
that burn the soul
secrets I cannot confess
for her sake alone
yet that I would shout
loudly from every
rooftop and mountain
and be proud to own
secrets that I hope
she will one day
find the strength
to confess too
yet I fear she will
instead put them safely
inside that box
she labels 'the past'
and keeps locked up
nailed tight shut
even to herself

Cynthia Pauline Jones 11/11/13

I make no demands of you
for love makes no demands
I give to you what love
demands of me
There was a time when I might
have made demands
and you might have responded
as on our first meeting
or at that later time
when I joked about kidnapping
and you said "yes please"
because you have that side
it's something I recognise
perhaps you do not yet
need to let her out
perhaps you never will
but if you do one day
then I hope you find
one who can guide you
or perhaps the day will come
when your guide appears
unbidden, perhaps inconveniently
but reaches within
touches her and bids her wake
when that happens
there is no denying of truth
just acceptance and knowing
that you are truly home
in the place where you belong

Cynthia Pauline Jones 19/1/2014

If I could only have been with you
would have made your dreams come true
if only you had allowed me to
there are no limits to what I'd do

I'd shave my head for you
fall down dead for you
swing the lead for you
keep things unsaid for you
make up my bed for you
bake gluten free bread for you

tell big lies for you
be despised for you
have only eyes for you
criticise for you
create surprise for you
wear disguise for you

give protection for you
take direction for you
lose connection for you
keep affection for you
bear inspection for you
shun perfection for you

would do anything at all for you
would do anything you want me to
would do nothing to make you blue
if I could only have been with you

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 3/11/13

Perhaps one day
you'll mention casually
just in passing
as though it were
no big thing,
that a poet fell
in love with you
once, years ago
before she was
a poet even
before she was
ready to be she,
that at the time
you'd not thought
it worth mentioning
lest it disturb
the equilibrium

Or perhaps it might
be thrown forth
with emphasis, triumphantly
when that equilibrium
has been disturbed
by other events
and accompanied by
the expressed wish
that you'd taken
that alternative route
when it was available

Perhaps you'll step forward
and claim your place
in these words
as muse, as inspiratrix
proudly proclaiming
that you were adored
to this extent
that the love
that could not be
expressed in touch
or taste, in immersion
of the senses
in physical intimacy
was expressed instead
in lasting verse

Or perhaps you may
keep this inside
locked away
telling no one
for all your days
hiding this secret
from the world
maybe in time
yet far away
to be discovered
stumbled upon
with incredulity
by some person
you leave behind

I shall never reveal
this truth directly
but there are clues
here and there
that if followed
may lead some
to suspect, but none
that would reveal
with any certainty
who you are
because this secret
is yours to keep
or reveal, not mine

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 17/10/13

I thought you were my angel
maybe I was yours instead
you needed some distraction
having recently been wed

I thought you were my angel
perhaps you really were
yet it was just a temporary job
just me that wanted more

I thought you were my angel
it seems that wasn't you
your true vocation's as my muse
I guess that will have to do

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 6/10/13

Sometimes I think
we dance
through time
you and I
around and around
one another
sometimes together
sometimes apart
always entwined
one way or another

But this time
something got missed
we fell out of synch
you found another
this time around
you're her's
but there will again
come a time
when you'll be mine

Other times I think
that we have
just the once
that there never were
those times before
that we won't have
a next time around
that we missed
our only chance
yet still something
feels so right

So why does
this invisible thread
connect us still
why do I feel
it extending
onward and back
from the beginning
to the end
of all time?

Cynthia Pauline Jones 3/10/13

Did you really make it
from Chicago to LA?
see the sights, feel the vibes
get your kicks along the way

Did you make any detours
or stay faithful to the route?
to stray can be so tempting
but you need to be astute

I'll admit to being envious
it's a trip I'd love to do
and if you'd done the M4 with me
I'd have done 66 with you

But none of that could ever be
because you were always her's
and parts of that land are no go for me
but it's cool for cis girls to wear spurs

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 1/10/13

There was a picture
you once took
of the moment
that forever changed my life

Of the virtual you
and the virtual me
becoming virtual we
on a chaise-longue in paradise

You showed it me later
though I never had a copy
now the evidence is gone
yet the image remains

It's etched there forever
in the centre of me
and you once wondered
if it was just about the chase

But those doubts were misplaced
it was never the chaise
for me you see
it was all about the longue

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 30/8/13

How is it that
someone into whose eyes
you've never looked
someone who would never
offer more than crumbs
and most of those illusory
who could leave you
dangling on a thread
for days and weeks on end
hoping you might be graced
but knowing disappointment
was more likely
how is it someone like that
can take your heart
and make it sing,
even as they bit by bit shred it?

How is it that
when you, in the end, protest
it all becomes your fault?

How is it that
even after you think
you've got over it
it all resurfaces
to add yet more hurt?

The next one to break my heart
will at least have to
look me in the eye first.

Cynthia Pauline Jones, 9/4/12