He's like the first snowfall
in the beginning of winter.
After the heat and craze
of a stressful summer,
he shows up to cool you down
and is so lovely, but funny too.
He'll cheer you up,
even if it means throwing a snowball at you!
While blizzards sometimes occur,
he always goes back to that softness.
The softness that looks so perfect and simple.
The same way it looked
after the first snow fall.

you hold dark weddings in your slumber
where the groom is no more than a fixture
painted smile brittle and small
mothers hold cages they wish upon
daddies girl no longer blue-eyed saint
your bestie too drunk to carry your tune
where the cake is bitter
the gifts torn

i looked to you but could not be seen
so a lament came to my wicked lips
looked to you and all I could see was the gravity
that drew me into you
a stranger with her own maps and masks
showing the straight line between your dusk and dawn
a statement of what's not fair
strange you love me

looked into you
a stranger who comes up slowly
I colour with magic markers the darkness in your eye
make it as pretty as you wished
hide it all away
I sleep each night inches away
from your slow walking fear
as you toy with silk strewn lusts
sweet asylum that is never too close
always far too near

I looked to you but could not be seen
so a lament came to my wicked lips
mumbled a carpet of apologies
spread out 'neath your feet
as you dip one toe into the waters
you called me
but when I looked to you
you looked away

there is a ship that sails tonight
I can see us on it
we wave bye-bye in slow motion capture
I can see joy in your eye
dance cheek to cheek under the moonlight
shine cause I know you like to touch dreams
breathe for me girl
just keep dancing 'neath starry sky
ill crash your dark weddings
catch your tears before they can fall
be waiting on your morning doorstep
come home to find me
come home from those inches away
look into you
just for you
not that someone
in a dark wedding day

news paper pages
scatter along a ***** wind
some caught in fences separating
some free to climb into the forever of
deep blue sky pure sunshine
washed clean of the sins printed on its page
only photographs remain
a black & white image of the old man
feeding pigeons along the empty path
that lead him there

news paper pages
forever silently burning in a collapse of worlds
so old the smoke has died away
pages with masterful words written
never finding lips to uncage their meaning
a beauty of phrase that has never faded
a chain link barrier between what its
long dead author spoke eloquently
and the world disguised by years of dead dust
only photographs remain
a faded image of an old man
walking the sunset
a scattering of bread crumb's
stretching back along his trail
leading not into the living sky
forever shifting between dark and light
but into the dusty caverns of twilight
forever twilight

by candle light
he will pour over the things he never spoke
wishing only for a voice once more
a way to tell her
about all those yesterdays ago
the why's and whatnot's
that he fiddles with
like wooden toys ever more finely crafted
never to knowing play
never to escape the gathering dust

here he sits
in his comfy chair
tea and biscuits gone cold
and his lips ****** with gentle care
words written on discarded news paper pages
like bread crumbs scattered for
birds that never come
© 2017 mark john junor all rights reserved