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Oct 2019 · 373
In Transit.
Fay Slimm Oct 2019
Jewelled with
rainbow translucence roll
rain-bead *****
slowly down outer-windows.

Golden-globe
seed pearls, clear watery
glories slide
in uniform lines, floorward.

Diamonds in
transit they shine and fire
sparks from each
crystalline orb's inner eye.

Smallest gems,
if unnoticed, might seem
irrelevant when
joined by rush into sheen.

Caught however
by eyes with keen poetic
insight rain-drop
beauty bequeaths an ode.
Oct 2019 · 279
Comes Autumn.
Fay Slimm Oct 2019
Too soon comes Autumn, nipping the heels
of unwary Summer while it stealthily seals
subtle changes in verdant leaf-laden trees.


Ripened fruits begin dropping unhinged by
rattle of branches in which Autumn hides.


Before battle commences its volatile breeze
scatters copper-thin shivers through obese
Summer with its cunningly capricious ease.


Autumn comes running nor stands aside
while plants adjust to its dynamic stride.


It tosses relentless as with bounty it plays
and douses growth's hold by raining days
of voracious havoc onto Summer's ill-fate.


Scurrying birds sense the warning of chill
as Autumn's sigh pecks at my window-sill.


All life battens down to change of season
for as Summer recedes, fight must yield.


Flower buds crumble and last roses fade
knowing Autumn comes running, to stay.
Oct 2019 · 232
Sightless.
Fay Slimm Oct 2019
Whispers from wine-coloured moonlight have now
blighted old river grass.
No-one will pass by this flood's blistering chorus of
frustrated past outcry.
The waters stay silted with years-long, war-seared
bitterness as each ill-timed
Peace talk crumbled to finish killed by conclusions
of coated top-brass.


Dreams of the tortoise-shelled butterfly days faded
long before turbulent rapids
Drew young men and women toward battles over
naught but misapplied fears.
Lifetimes float hormonally by in river-side history
as pride's facade of need for action.
Forces of folk press-mustered, taught naught but
allegiance to mindless leads.


Listening I hear victims' pathetic exits still weeping
regrets for conceding to hate.
Wisps of blood-to-come days surface from tainted
mould as no war sits easily.
What happens when, hit by flows of violence peace
can no longer struggle for gain ?
Reddened under-tow of sacrifice rises from victims
caught in sightless obedience.
Oct 2019 · 350
First Light.
Fay Slimm Oct 2019
If first light following night's release
seizes every day's dawning
to increase
the force of nature's fresh air feast
which overrides
residues of human sleep drifting
and provides more
meaning to a deep-stretch revival

why not breathe it in ?


If delight upon which one stumbles
at first light gives the urge
contained in that
humbling moment as dawn takes
up reigns cleansed by
dark silence to draw in morning air
and purge dream-dried
remains in lungs, heart and mind

why not breathe it in ?



If alchemy, in waking at first light
outweighs and changes
last cosy minutes under a duvet
by urging fresh ways
to adventure which illuminate life


why not breathe it in ?
Oct 2018 · 875
Sensuality.
Fay Slimm Oct 2018
Sensuality.


Eastern the rhythm as dancing begins.

Practiced fluidity.
Gliding vibration of smooth undulation.

Transparent veils quiver like airy wings.

Bared sensuality.
Stunning production of pulsating pelvis.

Entrancing the swirl of seductive spins.

Twirled spontaneity.
Skirt's silken fringes shake by gyration.

Bangled wrists shiver in twisting rings.

Mounting engagement.
Lookers call loudly stirred by sensation.

Oriental performance an audience wins.
Sep 2018 · 496
Why Not ?
Fay Slimm Sep 2018
If first light that follows night's release
seizes every day's dawning
to increase
the force of nature's fresh-air feast
which overrides
residues of human sleep re-course
and provides new
meaning to a deep-breath revival

then why not breathe it in ?



If delight upon which one stumbles
at first light gives the urge
contained in that
humbling moment as dawn takes
up reigns cleansed by
dark silence to draw in morning air
and purge dream-dried
remains in lungs, heart and mind

then why not breathe it in ?



If blessings of waking at first light

outweigh last cosy moments in bed

and aid us gather fresh store of life

then why not breathe it in ?
Sep 2018 · 336
You Are.
Fay Slimm Sep 2018
Go gentle today.

Muse a few moments and find
a still space

Tread with care to nurture your
own special grace.

Go gentle today.

Stay and meditate a while on
just who you are.

You are a marvel of beautiful
life, you are a star.

Go gentle today
Sep 2018 · 1.0k
Trouble.
Fay Slimm Sep 2018
Dearest My Lord.
please to read this missive not with haste
but in serious thought.


Come Sire, and view such unholy state
to which thou hast brought me
at being with child and of hearing lately
of thy touring intent mine heart
starteth in great alarm, as I indisposed
must know for sure that thou be
not going away.


Fie upon that scheme mine Liege for
thou hast in me fathered a babe.

Thou shouldest stay, and embrace mine
own confinement to disgrace,
whereby the infant will bear no name
and wouldst thou abandon me to this fate
prithee have pity on offspring shame.


Pray marry me do, thou canst not afford
to blacken my name by
seeing the truth and fleeing abroad
and thus relinquish thy parenthood destiny.

I belong only to thee so do not ill-use me.

Thou sought  thy way, now takest thou mine
for without thy support I must surely decline.

Thus thou ought to realize I live in frightful
dread unless on thee I rely.
This heart beateth only for thine say I.

Thou hast undone me so prithee consider
direst consequence, face thy conscience
and beside me do stay.

I remain heavy with anticipation lest thy reply
dashes all trust and quill thee therefore
to think my Lord on resolving such trouble
as of utmost importance.


Sent in the month of September 1709.
From Mary Elizabeth, distraughtly thine.
Sep 2018 · 496
Underprized.
Fay Slimm Sep 2018
Love, the eternal underprized God-word
has become today

mostly outmoded.

Alteration stains its disguised state, for
love, absurdly changed to shadows,
is merely pretence

and smells corroded.

Masquerading as depth with no worth
love lies weakened and is nothing
special, seen by some

as almost inept.

Left un-nurtured, this gift called love
withers when carnal lust invades
and fades its force to

rating mere second.

Desecration of words begets usurpers,
and non-use deteriorates power
when love is viewed

as fervor demeaned.



Once confessed love needs constancy,
otherwise as with any mistook
God-word, compromised

love becomes surreal.
eternal
Sep 2018 · 523
Quiet.
Fay Slimm Sep 2018
A little silence mothers more truth for those
who dare seek and embrace
the unheard,
for if not smothered stillness guides minds
to find in quiet
something of beauty waiting behind sound
to become to the listener
more than mere antidote.

To those who see value in unsung whispers
a soundless time provides
escape to peace,
composes a peerless calmness aiding days
of halcyon balm
which reaches life's mystic core of healing
for only at rest can stillness
stifle stress of noise wholly.
May 2017 · 472
This Heart.
Fay Slimm May 2017
When I, led sleepless through uneasy dark
sigh lonely for thee.
When moon rides high its wide curved arc
and cold falls crisp on flower and tree.
When sun bids farewell to skyline's blue
and a mist covers first starlight with dew
how I sigh for thee.

When I, dreaming walk lone ocean waves
again sigh for thee.
When wind rides high the sea's briny lace
and a moon turns pale its filters on me.
When Neptune roams his wild-water hall
and foaming white horses rise only to fall
how I sigh for thee.

When I, wakened bone-tired before dawn
sigh weary for thee.
When sun rides high as day becomes worn
and noon lies basking over calmed sea.
When distance between us taxes this heart
and needed commitment keeps love apart
how I sigh for thee.
May 2017 · 393
This Heart.
Fay Slimm May 2017
This Heart.

When I, led sleepless through uneasy dark
sigh lonely for thee.
When moon rides high its wide curved arc
and cold falls crisp on flower and tree.
When sun bids farewell to skyline's blue
and a mist covers first starlight with dew
how I sigh for thee.

When I, dreaming walk lone ocean waves
again sigh for thee.
When wind rides high the sea's briny lace
and a moon turns pale its filters on me.
When Neptune roams his wild-water hall
and foaming white horses rise only to fall
how I sigh for thee.

When I, wakened bone-tired before dawn
sigh weary for thee.
When sun rides high as day becomes worn
and noon lies basking over calmed sea.
When distance between us taxes this heart
and needed commitment keeps love apart
how I sigh for thee.
May 2017 · 307
This Heart.
Fay Slimm May 2017
When I, led sleepless through uneasy dark
sigh lonely for thee.
When moon rides high its wide curved arc
and cold falls crisp on flower and tree.
When sun bids farewell to skyline's blue
and a mist covers first starlight with dew
how I sigh for thee.

When I, dreaming walk lone ocean waves
again sigh for thee.
When wind rides high the sea's briny lace
and a moon turns pale its filters on me.
When Neptune roams his wild-water hall
and foaming white horses rise only to fall
how I sigh for thee.

When I, wakened bone-tired before dawn
sigh weary for thee.
When sun rides high as day becomes worn
and noon lies basking over calmed sea.
When distance between us taxes this heart
and needed commitment keeps love apart
how I sigh for thee.
May 2017 · 308
This Heart.
Fay Slimm May 2017
When I, led sleepless through uneasy dark
sigh lonely for thee.
When moon rides high its wide curved arc
and cold falls crisp on flower and tree.
When sun bids farewell to skyline's blue
and a mist covers first starlight with dew
how I sigh for thee.

When I, dreaming walk lone ocean waves
again sigh for thee.
When wind rides high the sea's briny lace
and a moon turns pale its filters on me.
When Neptune roams his wild-water hall
and foaming white horses rise only to fall
how I sigh for thee.

When I, wakened bone-tired before dawn
sigh weary for thee.
When sun rides high as day becomes worn
and noon lies basking over calmed sea.
When distance between us taxes this heart
and needed commitment keeps love apart
how I sigh for thee.
May 2017 · 302
This Heart.
Fay Slimm May 2017
When I, led sleepless through uneasy dark
sigh lonely for thee.
When moon rides high its wide curved arc
and cold falls crisp on flower and tree.
When sun bids farewell to skyline's blue
as a mist covers first starlight with dew
how I sigh for thee.

When I, dreaming walk lone ocean waves
again sigh for thee.
When wind rides high the sea's briny lace
and a moon turns pale its filters on me.
When Neptune roams his wild-water hall
as foaming white horses rise only to fall
how I sigh for thee.

When I, wakened bone-tired before dawn
sigh weary for thee.
When sun rides high as day becomes worn
and noon lies basking over calmed sea.
When distance between us taxes this heart
as needed commitment keeps love apart
how I sigh for thee.
May 2017 · 303
This Heart.
Fay Slimm May 2017
This Heart.

When I, led sleepless through uneasy dark
sigh lonely for thee.
When moon rides high its wide curved arc
and cold falls crisp on flower and tree.
When sun bids farewell to skyline's blue
as a mist covers first starlight with dew
how I sigh for thee.

When I, dreaming walk lone ocean waves
again sigh for thee.
When wind rides high the sea's briny lace
and a moon turns pale its filters on me.
When Neptune roams his wild-water hall
as foaming white horses rise only to fall
how I sigh for thee.

When I, wakened bone-tired before dawn
sigh weary for thee.
When sun rides high as day becomes worn
and noon lies basking over calmed sea.
When distance between us taxes this heart
as needed commitment keeps love apart
how I sigh for thee.
May 2017 · 1.5k
Mantra's Mystique.
Fay Slimm May 2017
What is deep I want fiercely.
What is heart-moving I need to feel.
In what is adventure I wish to partake
and live to fulfillment.

If time and chance allow me to dive
into experience I shall leave the shallows.
With wings boldly grown
what is known as free flight I want to try.

I intend learning the meaning of life's
hidden music.
If there are tunes sweeter dreams feed on
these I will start to sing.

So come forward potential.
I have mantra's mystique to re-invent inner
sensory limitations.
With what are catalysts for energy change
I want a positive avalanche.

If love means completion I shall barter no
more and surrender willingly.
What is bliss I want to fill with and give
my best to the saga of living.
May 2017 · 541
Sea-Swell.
Fay Slimm May 2017
The breast of the sea swells tonight
as her efforts to rise, heightened
by great heaving breaths break her skin
and inflated balloons, topped thinly
with spume burst, the sea is in labour.


She roars, tries suppressed pitch to gain
the shore, finds her efforts checked
then sweeps out once more tumbling
somersaults over herself, grumbling
with loud submarine thunderly sounds
as irate she sends pebble-bed pounding.


Bloated, yet moving in no way slower
her bellows ignored foamy tears flow
down watery frills and rollers make
short work of staining her saline face.


Sea-Swell intends to bare all tonight
in majestic embrace with a Spring-tide
May 2017 · 385
Undertow.
Fay Slimm May 2017
Whispers from wine-coloured moonlight have now
blighted old river grass.
No-one will pass by this flood's blistering chorus of
frustrated past outcry.
The waters stay silted with years-long, war-seared
bitterness as each ill-timed
Peace talk crumbled to finish killed by conclusions
of coated top-brass.

Dreams of the tortoise-shelled butterfly days faded
long before turbulent rapids
Drew young men and women toward battles over
naught but misapplied fears.
Lifetimes float hormonally by in riverside history of
pride's facade of need for action
Forces, press-mustered are taught blind allegiance
to naught but mindless leads.

Listening I hear victims' bubbling exits still weeping
regrets for conceding to hate.
Wisps of blood-to-come days surface from tainted
mud as no war moulders easily.
What happens when, hit by flows of violence peace
can no longer struggle for gain ?
In reddened undertow of river-mud woes rise from
those caught up in sightless obedience.
Apr 2017 · 709
She Rises.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
Dawn and night-clouds part the horizon,
Dark muddy blues turn suddenly light
Spilling change on her hues as she rises,
And oh that fullness of sight.

Glow of greeting bequests later heat-time,
Brazen sun brooks no trace of the night.
She aims to captivate dark guilelessly
With oh such flourish of style.

Her blush in pale sky flashes a brightness
Over first tremble of her prelude to fire.
She welcomes day by blazing sublimely  
In oh what a show of surprise
Apr 2017 · 328
Underprized.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
Underprized.


Love, the underprized eternal God-word
has become today

mostly outmoded.

Alteration stains its disguised state, for
love, absurdly changed to shadows
is merely pretence

and been corroded.

Masquerading as some trait of worth,
love lies weakened and is nowhere
special, seen by some

as almost inept.

Left un-nurtured, this thing called love
just withers further, doubt invades,
and its power fades

to being senseless.

Desecration of a word turned usurper,
love so deteriorates that users
agree this love is of

no consequence,

just an emotion,

demeaned.

Once confessed love needs constancy,
otherwise as with any mistook
God-word, compromised

love may become

seen as surreal.

We who believe need to look closer

at Easter's meaning.
Apr 2017 · 945
Wake-Up Call.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
The comforting warmth of another
breathing alongside,

closed eyes,

drowsily gliding
over waves
of sensuous dreams,

untidy covers
askew with contented

sonorous sighs.


Competing with birdsong at dawn
palls a little
when wet lips and cold nose

lather your ears
in a  pawing ecstatic four-footed

wake-up call.

Pets never sleep where they should.
Apr 2017 · 520
Who I Am.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
Liberation discharge has a loud call, need
to unwind shouts boldly,
as the fettered heart feels no better until
it is de-controlled.

Caged, a muzzled soul will unravel slowly
having freedom, believing,
when turned adrift emancipation widens
as it homes for relief.

So unhand my heart, release me, disband
this neglected affair
and leave hold of erroneous persuasion
that shacked means care.

Who I am is unique and of late I begin
again to celebrate
life for my own pleasure, and not for what
others think is my state.
Apr 2017 · 533
Wonderment.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
In that twilight when sea-foam skittered sand
on bare wet toes,
as sun-down scuppered need for dour grum,
you took me
and we shackled wonderment for a moment.

All rile was left in a yesterday-mire and just
nothing felt slutchy
to our touch of contentment that little while.

In dark's cove we chawed  clandestine risps
of stolen kisses, unrolled
tongues of delight and gloried in fetterment
while gyved together.

Those neckled heaves hankled all the asurn
of heaven and earth.

One summer's eve we two for a pretty time,
wooed an alivenesss,
slaked passion and sated sleaved  smeddum
as never before.


Hagseed may take tomorrow but we did what
was waited for.

We pierced a rive into infinity on that azured        
shore, you and I.


N.B.
Grum = gloomy, morose
Slutchy = mucky
Asurn = vault
Risp = green-leaf branch
Gyve = handcuffed
Sleaved = raw
Smeddum = energy
Apr 2017 · 428
Yellowness.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
With each advent of sun-showered lemon
wonderment happens,
a springing of close-coloured denseness
floods valley and field.

Local daffodil time opens frilly with captured
scents of happiness,
jam-packed with massed heads all nodding
welcome gilt greetings.

A yearly looked-for experience is this, so
breathing in sunshine
under blue sky I bend down to eye level,
and lie alongside an ocean
of yellowness wealth to feel floral motion
of therapy's finest.

To be momentarily floating atop flittering
waves of essence
is like swimming in Spring-coloured bliss.
Apr 2017 · 355
Youth's Blood.
Fay Slimm Apr 2017
Cut locks
fall floorward.
Cropped hair
soft lies.
Docked curls
chopped off.
So ends
young boys' lives.

Bent minds
plan glory.
War needs
cropped men.
Culled hearts
fight more.
Then youth's
blood spills again
Mar 2017 · 703
Bubble Magic.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Swirling in oily rainbowing movement
the bubble traps time,
wraps beauty around eternity and vibrates
in worlds of pure fluidity.

Excelling in soapy space jailed restraint
orb creates and encases
its outer in fragile globular skin layered
in tiny gossamer jewelry.

Look at its see-through glassy sphere
and matchless potential
caught in a universe of wondrous hues
of shining swirl entombed inside.

Then in bursting lets fall what was first
indescribable but now
disappeared bubble-magic still appeals
to the mind of an inner-child.
Mar 2017 · 362
Conceding.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Conceding.

An ink-toned ebony night captures
sound and takes from stillness quiet rapture.

Emerging now sparkling gem-stars
lend diamond brightness to penetrate dark.

And surging toward me while I lie
powerless that shine embraces my mind.

Consciously losing track of time, way
past heaven's far height I fall up into space.

I taste one nova then thick black
velvet becomes holed as I digest the galaxy.

Grief could not console me but his
star holds secrets which assure future bliss.

One with the cosmos I can now stop
as conceding to mystery fear has been lost.
Mar 2017 · 417
In Transit.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Jewelled with
rainbow translucence roll
rain-bead *****
slowly down outside windows.

Golden-globe
seed pearls, clear watery
glories slide
in uniformed lines, floorward.

Diamonds in
transit they shine and fire
sparkle from
each crystaline orb's inside.

Smallest gems,
if unnoticed, might seem
irrelevant,
joining the fall into sheen.

Caught however
by eyes with keen poetic
insight odes
to rain-drops might follow.
Mar 2017 · 414
Hearts Wept.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Tribute to a much missed poet-friend.

Like a shuttle in lace-makers' fingers
the thread has flown, the bubble burst.
Time ended when sand that had lingered
trickled too fast as the hourglass upturned.

Like a ripple moving its last on the lake
the song is sung, the swan is now gone.
Ink dried when he became past, forsaken
the blurring verses as sight was near done.        

Like a battle begun by stalwart hands
the race has been run, the passion is cold.
Hearts wept as courage made its last stand
and the finalé of Lost-in-France became told.
Mar 2017 · 584
Catch-Trap.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Crouched in viewing the shivering cobweb

craftily spanning a waterfall's edge

I saw fine precision-knifed filaments

cunningly strung with infinite wisdom.

A weightless weapon of swinging steel,

death-celled bed spun on gossamer wheel.

That devilish duvet of glistening gauze

betokened real craft as the spider paused

then in obscurity tensed for success,

alert with magnetic insect suppression.

Hairily silent as tensile wires, cleverly glued

met miniscule life of wriggling food

that by moving caught death in but seconds

while spider gave fly lethal injections.

As water's curtain cascaded to ground

and whirling catch-trap spun victim around

fed spider wiped mouth, cleaned sticky legs,

repaired any holes and prepared for the next.
Mar 2017 · 376
Tribute To Vincent.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Brushes which fuse earth and sun
in bold oily strokes.
Lines that move across landscape
like flames of smoke.
Palette fervent with passion colours
light's very moment.
Framed an artistic heart's anguish
stays ever molten.
Signed by Van Gogh fire-gilt paint
never goes cold.
Mar 2017 · 362
Singing On.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Here on the shore-less ocean of life
we parted lovers weep not alone.

The heavens on seeing grief's goodbye
paleth each star in sympathy's dome        
as silent support for human despair.

When grave sounds a knell and kindled
by mortals love appears dead not unaware
is sun or moon of more being willed.

None ordered our future fire be cooled.        

Was it nature estranging thyself from me
or destiny's game whose divisive ruling
arranged thine ending and I, incomplete ?

Nay, hope singing on, calls merciful Fate      
as ready aid in knowing whatever the soul
be, mine and his beat ever the same

and that somewhere,

somehow and at some waiting time

we pair will again reunite as one whole.
Mar 2017 · 365
Together.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
I am me,
the product of timeless eternity.
You are you
for whom wisdom created earth's beauty.
We are
citizens of great universality.
Let us
make it a place in which Love is the rule.

There are those
who would of a whim destroy nations
Bring to quick
end proven power of regeneration.
You friend
are he who can change course of history.
I am she who
though weak can add the weight needed.

We individually can make a difference
which is believable.
Together humanity will alter the past if  
they choose lasting peace.
Mar 2017 · 353
Cutting Free.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Time moves on remorseless yet fresh starts
appear plausible
if from parched discord
we form opportunities from which to carve.

Clearer choices for cutting free expand lone
coaster-rides but tried
ways of surprise
adroitly harness colour into bland unknown.

Distress creates apathy while unrestrained
euphoria decrees
time for growing new wings
and chances to better breed later decades.

Relocated those truncated dreams retreat
to re-form, dried to a crisp
but soon freshly adorned with
made resolutions to avoid future defeat.

Hope succeeds if, skilful in competence,
we apply learned
wisdom to hear the unheard
for discarding the old needs no audience.

Pushing ahead, cutting new paths again
exalts over former  
attempts raw angst to alter
past failure by wearing our skin unafraid.
Mar 2017 · 3.8k
Time's Needle.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Stretching and shouldering night away a sun crouches
to birth black's ousting
by one more empty circle of dark's hollowed pouches
then outs in sparkling showers.



Spangled with myriad star-labour unfolding membranes,
like numberless leaves
dreamers listen to soft serenades as the universe favours
lullaby-songs to deep breathing.



Silvered surface shivers with night-eyes as glittery dust
follows with dart-swift
flight each soul's winged journey while murmuring such
mysteries to those sleeping still.



Glimmers on sightless horizon reveal light's celebration
while untrodden dew
newly writhing in close-capped life waits inertia's frame
stirring to shake before rising.



Piercing the brain time's needle regathers worn threads
and remembers that more
sown seed means now-grown grain needs re-collection
in daylight's mind-aware storage.



Open-eyed, naught is over as hinging on less or more,
sun, with slumber done,
now hurries to open the thin partition between yawns
of torpidity to more hours won.
Mar 2017 · 386
Carrying On.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Carrying On.

Sea crosses curved world,
pulls in its waters
as ebb and fall tides
hold back mighty floods
from earth's bolstered sides,
so life carries on
against crash and cry
of breaker destruction
and fights with great fervour
to keep boats on shore
when waves become mighty.
Mar 2017 · 399
Still Climbing.
Fay Slimm Mar 2017
Stormforce confronts the tail-end
of innocence and carefree
calm hurled away, fire's mind-set
lights departure's legacy.

Life in the wake of changes acts
out a merciless course,
composure alters as hurtful facts
faced are being absorbed.

Scarring of hope exposes wounds
and festers turn raw
as lover's lost trust starts to ooze
bile inside heart's disorder

Lies like turbulence cause offence
to shards of memory
and words strike hard when sense
betrays waywardness.

Gathering a last frenzied strength
truth floods thru resistance,
forces entry, flails and quenches
a taste for forgiveness.

Now dry-eyed the lady fights on
safer ground, well-shaken
but wiser and still climbing from
his bitter betrayal.
Feb 2017 · 655
Coveted.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
When half the world was blank on maps,
when people still believed in magic,
sounds became muffled
as underground tappings sprung up
in the hills and holes appeared.
Feet vanished for what seemed like days
then flat Northern caps
full of dust, topping faces of loot-happy
smiles shuffled off hazily
clutching large seeds of glimmery gold.
White-knuckled black
fists clutched closely to ribs dead weight
of their findings, bags
of pure alchemy, stones which changed
when kindled in home-made
dirt-hearths, to the hot comfort of flame
keeping away winter's cold.
Nuggets lost beneath time became finds
worth more than diamonds
when, in days of old, warmth could save
peasants' work-worn lives.
Yes, coveted then was possession of coal.
Feb 2017 · 300
Forsaken.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Forsaken.

They pass unnoticed in café crowds,
the black-penciled eyes of
pre-teen beggar girls.

Treading cement dust they strut, mouths
painted in innocence but out
adult ways to learn.      

Flaunting bodies not yet mature, how
tragic the flesh-trade making
young ****** of the poor.

Such maidens exposed to de-flowering
expect no fearless passage
to painless futures.

When will this cruel insane world yield
to the needs of these forsaken children ?
Feb 2017 · 351
Love's Due.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Love, blind to weakness,
sees what it chooses    
but shadows cast images
and joy sits unused.

Doubt born of judgement
frowns at trust's view
and ends tender harmony
deflecting love's due.

We, what we are, attract
discordant tunes
but love's baton composes
more than just music.
Feb 2017 · 491
Crescented Magic.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Hello shiny loop of post-shower Rainbow,
you of mosaic-powered striated halo,
and so sages tell, a sign of faith.

You chaste secreter of much potted gold,
crescented magic of arc-perfection
your brilliant mixtures of shaded hues
break raindrops into states
of optic illusion which act as temptation.

Oh consummate sweep of bow-creation,
who can know when and what
day you appear, colourfully naked.

Favour no seekers, oh Rainbow whom
by digging for myth will
selfishly follow roads right to your end.
Make therefore no friends
of illicit searchers for treasure, those
who see you as meant lure
for retrousséd wealth-embellishment.

Rainbow you cover your real blessings
in pseudo-gilt with which
ingratiates have become obsessed.

Sedate then all lucre-lust with a curved
root at each end of your
rain-augmented foot to waylay theft.
Divert and deflect looters with luminous
know-how and curl into
spacial deception before desecration.

Bedazzle all lechers by preventing entry
to any pretentious view
of your sensitive and tremulous end.

You as writhe of kaleidoscope can keep
away crooked schemers
by retaining your varisome irridescence.
Alive with mysterious rays
behave like a ghost loathing the sun, be
as invisible, turn pale, fade,
and disappear to invalidate trespass.

Rainbow hide what is always your own
from blind passers by with
greedy *****-eyes, stay unmolested.

Stretch out your tracery uncontrolled,
a beauteous vision who keeps
her vaulted prism a glorious whole.
Feb 2017 · 346
Three Faces.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
If the place which I write from is seen as real
it seems the verse and myself are two
sides of three faces.

Each word has its meaning and is part of a tale
which might well be translated as
me signing my name.

Yet from my inside I catch first breath of Muse
who since noting acceptance begins        
her bid to relate.

Lipless the language that fills my blank canvas
as more semantics she whispers
before they escape.

Thus must I question what does that make me ?
Feb 2017 · 678
Being Fickle.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Cornish spring drips and
all growth becomes riddled with
desire for warmth,
ridden with need for having more.

Freshly risen, green
gets liquid-addiction, an invisible
draw makes sward
swoon for regular fixes of water.

Crafty Spring knows
plants crave doses so being fickle
he drops trickles used
to tease shoots upwards for fuel.

Whoresome he opens
cores formerly hidden, then the
illicit physician lopes
in and flippantly erases hopes.

Bold, he impregnates
the deep sleep of inactive nature,
forcing in secret wet
potions to unclothe closed petals.

Then he may withhold
his advances and allow winter's
return to bring nights
of freeze to show is own might.

Old Spring hangs around
to tickle ground's fancy yet Sol's
hard passion he fears
for at start of heat he disappears.
Feb 2017 · 1.0k
Difference.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Difference.

Praise for all variation,
that diversified play of colour and shape
which takes away sameness
and paints nature with sheer tessilation.
Hooray for the patchwork
of harlequin stripes in that mackerel sky
or those chequered blotches
embroidered on coats of every dalmatian.
Applause for the hues
shot through peacocks and each rainbow,
those pied streaks in ponies,
marbling of stone, the frets in wide bands
on speckled trout, braided
tattoos over the backs of zebras and tigers
flecked with a motely
collection of artistically peppered mosaics.
Smiles for tri-colours
in butterflies and pibald frogs just made
to reflect luminous wet.
For kaleidoscope difference let praise be
and for all crazed iridescence
seen in the glorious abundance of nature.
A tribute to G.M. Hopkins the poet who lived a monastic life and died in his late twenties.
Feb 2017 · 496
No Time.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
As each ebbing tide seaward out-pours
to leave its remembrance
on sand's empty spaces,
as the breakers slip back to clasp shores
before again parting
my thoughts turn to gone embraces.

As life's rollers drag me, heedlessly
back thru' tears unforeseen
where no dry eye ever dwells
on-moving tides bring me no release  
for I see now with regret,

that we had no time for farewells.
Feb 2017 · 479
Wild Land.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Who visits this wild land sees,
in the vision-bright eyes of birds and beasts
where grass, wind-bent
and weather-dried clings to high cliffs
for dear life as granite shelters
no more than hovering feather and rabbits
who stay close to their hides.
Where eagles keep day-watch for movement
in heather of bobbed tails, or white
hopping ears in habitual
cocked wariness then like a knife of forked
light the predators fall.
Fern-fattened fur leaps or freezes
in prey-fright,
eyes glaze and stay frozen as falcon attacks.

Such is the dictum
of law and order among the creatures
surviving in wilderness
yet persist in a fierce kind of freedom.
Who seek for behaviour
in those being true to themselves owns
that this island has places
where human-less only nature controls.
Feb 2017 · 851
Carpé-ing Diem.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Today, dreams left behind I fall awake,
still dozed I oust myself
out of dark-doldrums, pummeling eyes
and promise the sun to
visit new campion just birthing its buds
up on the heath.
Today I will reach heights above windy
ridges of mist and fill
both my hands with pocketed crumbs to
feed ragged robins
who before breeding sing as they flaunt
red with bold confidence.
Today, courting sweet Cornish morning
I shall go breakfastless
and match Tessa my dog in chasing her
make-believe meals
of dried seaweed, have some fun plying
beached gulls with cuttlefish
bone while taking leaps to the unknown        
on thrift-covered clifftops.
Today I will sand-hop the cloud-shadows
of shifting grey and
voiceless give praise for this boisterous
paradise in which life
thrives, then carpe-ing diem I yawn, get
started and am away.
Feb 2017 · 777
Mutual Pleasure.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Wet as brown pebbles elderly faces

parade every day,

jackets held tightly to capped heads,

leading dogs lifting legs

or stooping in course of nature taken,  

ready bags, backs bent

painfully, retrieve to appropriate bins      

passing owners en route      

exchange nods in wind or cold drizzle,

bedraggled but usually  

rain-walking oldsters are glad despite

weather to find exercise

daily in canine care provides outings

never otherwise taken.

Sharing life with a four-pawed friend

shows tail-wagging prone      

to rain-walking gives mutual pleasure    

so those living out remains

of their days might not feel so alone,          

meeting familiar faces.
Feb 2017 · 332
OURS.
Fay Slimm Feb 2017
Ours was perhaps not love,
the sort that demands proof,
fervour which naught can drown,
the passion that willingly lays down
itself for another's approval, no our own
was something written in much lighter tone.

Ours the keenness of separates
easily walking and talking together,
reaching for comfort from a kind hand
when hurts demanded an understanding,
yes ours was desire for friendship's corner,
of choices honoured and respect in full order.

Yet love was there, it grew
with care of each for each,
so in losing you, death too,
of a sort, took life from me.
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