A stolen glance a
Playful wink
Love eternal sworn in ink
Teacher confiscates the letters
Forced to read
Out loud
Beautiful sonnets that would
Make Shakespeare proud

You feel that you're falling, but
that's just your body rising to the skies.
See the sun shining upon the green fields
let the rain tickle you and
smile with your soul.

I know it hurts,
it does, of course,
after all
there's a war in your soul,
but, I tell you,
it's only your demons falling
the good in yourself is the one with the glory.

It's confusing, your legs are still weak
but slowly you'll forget about crawling
and start walking instead.

It takes time, you know
after living in the dark
it's hard to get used to the light
but you'll see
your eyes will stop hurting
and with the moon they'll shine
in the highest skies.

I know it's scary
and you only want to hide
you feel you're fading
but trust me when I tell you:
*You are not dying,
you're coming back to life.

A touch of sadness
               ten years gone
Like a midnight's voice
            of a far away song

Caught me unaware
              when I thought
I no longer cared

A sudden spark
              that flew
                    into eternity

A dance done then
             now done
                    in effigy

A poetic terse
              taughtly strung
                    deligently

At first dawn
           fades away

The further away things are in space when we look at them,
The more we're looking at the past.
So I think you must be at least as old as the universe
To have left such an impact upon it.
Your words as colourful as those pictures of nebulas;
Words of wisdom that hover in the mind long after spoken.
The cold, vacant space you inhale becomes blessed by your existence,
Exhaled into the creation of heat, your breath births countless stars.
Your suffering, a black hole.
Dreadful, heavy beyond measure, eternal.
Would swallow us all into death, split us into pieces,
But you see how far we've come and want us to thrive.
So the black hole swallows up the misery of others,
Growing wider, the hole in your heart, endless.
And then you end, so the universe ends.
There are no more stars to be formed,
Nor galaxies to add to the multitude you gave us.
It's all gone.
It just hasn't reached our eyes yet.

How  do  the  tourist's
know  I'm  local.
They  are  always  stopping  me.
And  asking  the  way  to  the  lake.
Perhaps  It's  because
I'm  walking  on  my  own.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.