I have left behind all aquiescence, disrobed past
motives of pleasing the crowd.

I no longer dress in former passivity and never
defend any conformity.

Compliance, from now on, is simply not me.

For sanity's sake I sent flat brogues to charity
centres and became re-invented.

Circumventing subservience and any pretence
I wear independence boldly.

To any lesser degree of non-submissiveness my
control I shall never release.

Men refer to me now as "Miss Self-Assurance"
in tight nets and high heels.

So better not mess with my new-found feeling
on pure contumaciousness.

I might resent it, wear your ties for my garters
and not be too nice.

Beware this flighty new woman is known to bite.

Take your own words from the poems of nature.
Add golden dreams from a rainbow or two.
Polish with good thoughts culled from right motive
And create something beautiful ~ ~ ~ do.

Phrase pleasant songs for the message to loners.
Add poetic ballads to comfort fear's due.
Burnish the spirit of youth with fine versing.
And create something beautiful ~ ~ ~ do.

Keep penning acclaim of peace for the needy.
Add some generous lines of compassion too.
Write with sound rhymes of positive thinking
And create something beautiful ~ ~ ~ do.

THINK SATIN, not silk and make it sheer black.

RUN IT slowly through sensitive finger-tip skin.
Black satin shimmers.
FEEL IT creamily smooth like alchemized liquid.
Black satin scintillates.
HOLD IT cool against lips and breathe slowly in.
Black satin stimulates.
TRY IT sensuously folded for more sinuous cling.
Black satin slithers.
WEAR IT bravely, accentuate bedtime's nakedity.
Black satin satiates.

THINK SATIN, not silk and make it sheer black.

Nine is still hugging-new-kitten time
filled with loud giggles, school-loving fun days,
a pig-tailing best time for friend-making.

Nine likes browsing through pages
of favourite tales curled up warm as toast, shawl
clad or napping on Dad's welcome lap.

An eye-on-best-chance-time is nine
for young girlish schemers, secretive play-time,
torchlight snacks with sleep-over pals.

Grown from doll-cuddling but baby
crazy lipstick-red nine acts the high-heeled lady
then raids Mum's bed for cosy snuggles

Life swiftly draining under-ten days
brings teenager-cool ways but not for a while,
beauty at nine has an innocent charm.

When that nine-candled cake makes
its sugary entrance I wish, as she bends closer
to blow months more maiden delight.

But just a reminder dear daughter
being nine still means early nights, clean teeth,
earned treats and a tidier room please.

(Written for a friend a few years ago)

Sequined diamanté
fading to light,
lark's night
passes away.

Herald of dawning
flying from dark,
the lark
seizes the way.

Forgets tomorrows,
ignores aforethings,
lark sings
of only today.

Tinted With You.

The gentlest shade for bad heartache
has to be forest green
Mauve I would choose for sad mood
of that doubt in between.

Cerise for the missing when you stay
longer each time away
And with no contact the palette turns
from bright to earthy grey.

Canary-yellow gets mixed for the fun
times I thought would not end.            
Pink for my shyness and blush-red when        
recalling love's readiness.
.
Sienna when letter-less and silence
brings hints of cobalt blue.
Deepest of all is every night's indigo  
unless tinted with you.

Whatever the heavy cumbersome ties
I feel under,
wherever I found all this pain,
however deep, hurt cannot be blamed
On any but me,
and to free myself I must regain
a warm heart,
must part with stored stings,
learn to sing a new me, bring a breath
of fresh air to this cloistered
stale place I call my heart then I can
start loving again.