As ever I have been, I am alone.
This solitude is seen by only me.
As if for my great sins I must atone,
and of my burdens, I can not be free.
I stay away from places lovers go.
I write my heart in poems I have penned,
and carefully arrange my thoughts just so;
to show the world I'm strong, but I pretend.
So as I watch the slowly setting sun,
and shiver as the failing embers die,
I know the loneliness has just begun,
that's when I hang my head and start to cry.
No matter how the winds of life have blown;
As ever I have been, I am alone.

From in the shadows I look back on life,
I dream the past; to when I once have been.
Not as today, where all my world is strife,
but to the days when youth was all serene
How good it was to be alive back then,
to hold a hand or touch another's cheek.
The caverns of my heart were soon a'spin,
and altruistic treasures did I seek.
I spent my patience till it all was gone.
I spent my life till there was nothing left.
The pretty bloom is well and truly done,
I find myself,of peace and hope,bereft.
Of "living to the full", let me now speak;
"To grow old, is not for those who are weak!"

When from my dreams I waken in the night,
and there my seeking arms still find you gone;
I panick, as the visions all take flight;
for I forgot, in dreams, I was alone.
With tenderness I think of you, away;
as if by reaching out I'd touch your star.
But I know I could never make you stay
and so I long for you just where you are.
I know you wish you too could be with me,
and when I wake, you then begin to dream.
For half a world away, you'll always be,
and true love cannot be what it would seem.
The sun and moon still dance on to their rhyme,
in your half of the world, and then in mine.

Time plods on.
The stuff of dreams wears thin,
so I put the stitches in,
and I smile and I am brave.

Pulled each way
I feel my own mortality.
There's less time than there used to be.
Why do I hesitate?

I do not know, I only wait.

I wonder what it is that sends us
looking out to sea,
amidst the pounding breakers
and that blue transparency?

There is a certain colour
that roils up from deep below,
and something's stirred within me too;
from where? I do not know.

From shore, I find that I am
just as troubled in my mind.
I cast my thoughts out to the waves
I know, are far from kind.

A sea within. A sea without.
I am so lost at sea!
My wildest thoughts search for a boat
for both realities.

With feelings tossed, I am confused
and wait now for the tide,
to put me back on solid ground,
there is no place to hide.

Where could I go, if going forth
there only is the sea,
and turning inward, I am lost,
within the sea of me?

All writers write about their love..
There's nothing left to say.
Every metaphor's been used,
all twists of phrase been played.
I think I might just have to choke,
if I read one more line -
from contemporary poets,
who ponder, pledge and pine!
And worse, I'm blindly one of them!
I know no other way.
And I have no excuse except,
I met my love one day.

Throughout my life I've pledged to make you mine.
As if, by wish, this vow would then come true.
So, would I practice words of pretty rhyme,
and, with my heart, would offer them to you.
Oh, how I wish myself to be a poem;
To enter through your eyes into your heart.
For it is there I wish to make my home.
I cannot bear that we should ever part.
But sometimes, when I search to see your face;
I, startled, see you looking back at me!
Could God, in kindness, spare a gift of grace;
or does He smile on simple fools as we?

Still, artfully I do the things I do.
The world might sing if I could speak to you.