Autumn was it when we first met
Autumn is it what I can't forget
Autumn was love and fret
Winter is not upon thee yet.

Autumn has three months,
Where leaves are by counted by the millionth,
Autumn is the time to find some shoes
While the season after brings us the blues.

Autumn is colour and life
Autumn was when you hug your wife.
Autumn is all alone
Autumn was blissful and blown.

You exist, as the seconds tick

conscience on the words, being read

the world is still, your soul at peace

countless thoughts swirl inside your head.

But right this second, across the Earth

a being sleeps , caught in a dream

at the other end, where the sun's emerging

a child awakens, to a cuckoos scream.

At this very moment, in a different land

tears are flowing down anothers cheeks

& as you read, under a different sky

a human smiles, at a memory

soon this moment, you spend in time

will cease to exist, like fading mist.

& this split minute, spent like a dime

is a distant memory in your mind.......

“She was kissed by the sun.
And in return,
she never left
until the crimson sky fades.”

A brokenness is in us
Like a window
Never closed;
Drafty and meddlesome
When it rains,
But at least the sun
Always finds its way in
And least we remember
That we are more
Than our flaws -
We are also the light
That shines through them.

You are the abundance of stars only visible to the dreamer in the wake of night

The sun and its companions as they glow to shine a light on the surface of your skin

You are the mischief that forms the toothy grin on the face of a child’s curiosity

The everlasting glow on their faces as they question the world around them

And I am lost in translation, confused, amused and somewhat enchanted

To you I am the clouds that hide away your blue skies

But to me I am the ones that shield you from the glare of a jealous sun

And to each other we are foreign, bordered and misunderstood

Lost in translation I’m waiting for you to understand ,
That to you; you’re nothing, but to me; you’re my dreamland

[new moon]
Moon girl is breath and curve. She catches light and throws it back to the universe. You see her and tremble, falling, as she once must have done from some heavenly place.

[waxing crescent]
Moon girl is wild. You follow her into the forest where she steps barefoot into a stream and takes your hand, water swirling over her feet and hers. She talks about roots and branches and flight. You are in love.

[first quarter]
Moon girl is dancing. Moving her body, dynamic, unpracticed elegance, shaping space, graceful, unafraid of audience, unafraid of pause, unafraid to bend and swish and rise, flying, electric, boundless. She gets everywhere. In your morning tea, clouds, April storms, wrapped in sparkling strung-out melodies, and especially in your head. You dream of waist, skin, movement holding her and warmth, closeness, desire kissing her and your heart burns soft inside your chest, a lantern lit by lunar beams.

[waxing gibbous]
Moon girl gives you violets. You give her your hands, open; your heart, open; your soul, open. You give her everything, or you try.

[full moon]
Moon girl is with you, always, this silver fire here in the filth and blood and terror, head on your shoulder, palm on your skin, speaking to you in ways language cannot, grounding you, saving you, saying your name, holy, lifting you up, repeated tenderness, voice low, eyes deep, glorious, and she is steel, she is iron, she is endless.

[waning gibbous]
Moon girl smiling. Moon girl watching. Moon girl brave. Moon girl rough and sweet. Moon girl creating. Moon girl radiating. Moon girl moving, toward you.

Moon girl.
Moon girl.
Moon girl.

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry