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6.6k · Jul 2016
Begins and Ends.
Fay Slimm Jul 2016
Running amok black bellies of hail-clouds
divest their hard cargo
on near-ready harvest and thunder claps
in spiteful applause.

Scudding sails of racing white galleons
arrive to the rescue
and change weather's position as quiet
breaches gale's disorder.

Setting the sun throws magenta feathers
across dark horizon
and to settle the issue parades jade tints
as the landscape transforms.

Waiting small boats plod homewards in
fish-laden formation
while wives run to stoke hot-kettled fires
of ready bath water.

Lighting a pathway half-moon winks as
heavier catches in
hauled nets silver the harbour and men
start night's final performance.

Sating hunger with coming and going
sow-and-reap women know
the meaning of sharing male labour in
scaling and salting chores.

Fisher-folks' world begins and ends
with the vagaries and quirks of weather.
3.8k · Sep 2016
Love's Hunger.
Fay Slimm Sep 2016
When hearts hunger to love
angels will see.

Need opens approach with
chance for release.

Heaven's intentions shall
brook no delays.

Freedom to show love is
how Love repays.
3.7k · Mar 2017
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.
1.5k · Aug 2014
Harbour Nights.
Fay Slimm Aug 2014
Summer strides the evening walkway.
Lights hide seaside's dark delight.
Reconnoitering lovers survey
Secret places out of sight.

Sandy pleasures want no daylight.
Heady times those harbour nights.
1.5k · May 2017
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.
1.5k · May 2016
Inviting.
Fay Slimm May 2016
Inviting.

The thin blue flame in my night-burnt fire
grows dim as dawn unquiets
another day's numberless happenings,
culls light from dark and carries
life forward while I, in sated mood, watch
first ***** in sparrowed pools lost
on those still bedded and fastened to sleep,
hear Spring-born lambs' early bleat,
smell warming grass dewed with new morning
and catch first breeze stirring shored
boats as sand twirls grasses in shivering dunes.
Unlatched my window wafts lures
to ****** some moments of closer approach
as closeted dawn opens
eyes and secretes rising smoke on sun's thaw
inviting a barefoot cavort
to wild-life's awesome nature, all on my own.
1.5k · Oct 2014
Behind Blinds.
Fay Slimm Oct 2014
Between ten and eleven-thirty p.m. this Cornish
village, for the most part gets itself quietly ready
to find comfort in bed.
No exception tonight, beneath cold arc of moon
time takes command as cats are put out, doors
latched and no dog barks.
Mist is rising under fading depths of navy-blue
sky as neighbours pull blinds and hiding behind
upstairs curtains undress.
Clothes are being thrown about, noses get blown,
teeth cleaned, backs scratched and toilets flushed
before baring days' secrets.
Outbursts of *** meet with collapse as confession
of headache becomes forgotten in gasps of gossip
that start giggling sessions.
Suppers crumbing clean sheets vye with a shared
cigarette between couples who, tho' sleep-heavy,
drowsily mumble goodnight.
Peace tumbles around snuffles and snores before
stirring ceases as this small backwater stumbles
toward a new morning.
Men, women and offspring down toys with tools    
as dreams take over while strength refuels weary
bones for more readiness.
For a few hours their world of normality flies to
another dimension then with sunrise legs stretch
and yawning faces distort.
Because betwixt six and seven thirty a.m. this little
community will rise and give inner-thanks before
morning battles start again.
Nobody knows what tears are shed behind blinds
that nightly challenge good folks' efforts in trying          
to make the most of their life.
1.3k · May 2016
Attuned.
Fay Slimm May 2016
Attuned.

Those whose thoughts have not sprung
from the cadence of waves
will never know songs that were ancient
when all the now agéd were young.

Those whose respect the vast ocean
accepts speak its tongue, sense
vagaries known only to weathered
faces turned to catch tidal motion.

Those whose minds are ocean-attuned,
gather storm-ebb's precocious
mood as ****'s mineral wealth floats
in with extras like fresh crab food.

Those whose living has grown safer
with knowing sea-swell pictures
wave behaviour hear vague whispers
of sound-change in rising breakers.

Those who receive news of bad gales
before skies turn black have read
wisdom's past signs and hear sea-bed
rhythms not heard by strangers.
1.2k · Jul 2016
Mistrust.
Fay Slimm Jul 2016
Mistrust.

The mistrust in a dying relationship
discolours love's eyes,
feels no reproof from past mistakes,
abuses kindness,
makes of togetherness an irritation,
turns truth to bland lies
and stands aside from communication
when one of two tries.
The breath of dead passion penetrates
beyond depth of ties
and wrecks with renewed realization
of non-compromise
while the mouth of rejection suffocates
taste for testing goodbyes,
not caring what strain lies in isolation.
Regret deeply sighs
when love retreats into disintegration.
1.2k · Dec 2010
Playing At Love.
Fay Slimm Dec 2010
Festtooned around
sweet-faced
Tracery of words,
never deeper
Than exquisite phrasing,
Lies counterfeit,
creeping
Retrouse' of unmeant
affection.
Playing at love
is outright
Two-faced plain
deception.
Fake tendrils never
curl round right
And the genuine heart
Knows, pain shows
when hurt starts.
1.1k · Jan 2011
A Queenly Affair.
Fay Slimm Jan 2011
The shadow of long-ago noblest of souls
now ghosting
the battements of this
mouldy tumbledown palace moans still,
albeit silently
about the time there was wind
blowing out of control in her royal mind.

Oh there was storm but she held the reins
of the hurricane
that could strip grain bare
if she so wished, and he whom she loved
was there in the room
handsome and bold, she decided to speak.

She was never afraid of tomorrows yet
she trembled
beneath the weight of this
queenly affair, there was something she
had not known
for a very long time
and that now arose to entangle her heart.

The Queen turned of a sudden and asked
for a kiss, oh yes,
she then received the tenderest
of gentle embraces
which would not be forgotten for the rest
of her life, but was
she liked for herself as a person, or not.

Fate though dictated that she never marry
any one man
but be wedded to all,
and such a hard
immensity of role meant belonging soley,
being in charge of her nation
was where mission ever held precedence.

All knew their place, so she lifted her head
as royal a ******
as ever had been, and yet
she was always to ask in her deepest heart
did he kiss her
because she was his Queen,
just to gain favour or did he really mean it.

Elizabeth's shadowy ghost will ever ponder
that unanswered question
in this hazy place as she wanders awaiting
1.1k · Jul 2016
Love-Dust.
Fay Slimm Jul 2016
Love-Dust.

A heart's entrance door
opens only from inside to outwards
and once ajar, before
blinking at expressive freedom sees
love's unknown wonder.
Soul- secrets when told will astound
love's doubt through
meant whispers into dreamer's ears
then pour nectar over
each fur-lined ache of hurting need
as Cupid refills fonts
with sating love-dust. until slaked
is thirst by no more want.
1.0k · Oct 2014
Treasure.
Fay Slimm Oct 2014
Summers of larks bred sun-torn
wilderness flowers all round my colourful home
and scented dialect of childhood
still utters recollections of well-trodden roaming.

In that haven of steep meadows
sheaves leaned roasting among searing hot fields
as hosts of moss roses fed nectar
to butterflies which still ghost my wistful dreams.

Autumn-red juiced my girlhood
when it etched its vermillion into each adventure
yet where could young fervour
find an entrance again to freedom's real treasure ?
1.0k · Oct 2016
On Show.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
Yes, let's colour our hair.
Choose clothing with care
Find health from right food.

We deserve to look good.

Let's slim down real age
Stay long at young stage
Wear the latest with ease.

We deserve best pleasing.

But let's forget outside
Face faults we hide inside.
Let's settle for knowing

We deserve more on show.

Let's forget and forgive
Try to live and let live.
Pride can scar unseen parts.

We deserve stress-free hearts.

So let's work inside-out.
Learn what aging's about
Though appearance may aid

We deserve to FEEL great.
1.0k · Feb 2017
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.
1000 · Jun 2016
I Heard.
Fay Slimm Jun 2016
Magic was in the wind today
for from its drone on my windowpane,
I caught a call,
I knew the tone
and thought I heard your voice again.

Murmurs were in the wind's low moan
for in its whisper toward my pillow,
I heard you talk,
I felt you near
and I lost the dread of being alone.

Mystic the tune in today's brisk wind
for by its song my grief rescinded,
I knew the lilt,
I had you here
and what I heard my heart believed.
994 · Oct 2016
Being Nine.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
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)
992 · Sep 2010
Moon Parade.
Fay Slimm Sep 2010
I chased this evening
Evening's fading sunset clouds,
Silver tin-foiled ribbons, tied
To grey-as-granite filigree.
Tinted skirts of hazy
Daytime's late farewell,
Night's ballooning moon parade
Displayed pale firework-light
Invasive coloured swathes
Across the best forgotten
Rainy afternoon.
Night's foothold sparked scuffs
Of steel in dust cascades
Across the waning light
While I stayed chasing
989 · Sep 2018
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.
982 · Jun 2016
The Edge.
Fay Slimm Jun 2016
The Edge......

This morning I saw light lift the hue
of night-dim lavender
while rivulets fell as blue mist
down tall iris stalks.

In dawn's drizzle I noticed sun kiss
the shivering lawn
as honeybee-hunger nosed through
late blooming roses.

I watched wet dry on petals of shiny
chrysanthemums and
warming rays open the daisy-eyed
corners of coming day.

As light splashed more morning at
and round garden paths
a curious gladness took me to the
edge of poetic rapture.
976 · Sep 2016
Solstice Sun.
Fay Slimm Sep 2016
Solstice Sun.
Under a clear blue bowl of a sky
warm sea slumbers as still
scraps of cloud like spun gauze float by
to let sun shine at will.

Lazy and lapping like coloured flint
around flattened path, more
carbuncle-red light changes tint
to let tide paint the shore.

Life-symbol-sphere wedded to fire,
evening sun throws her cloak
on midsummer day's heated pyre
to let night's grey in-soak.

And I breathless absorbed sky's bold
change as cloudmass diminished
after vivid crimson gauged holes
to let solstice sun sink.
958 · Nov 2016
Think Satin.
Fay Slimm Nov 2016
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.
927 · Oct 2010
Untried Dimensions.
Fay Slimm Oct 2010
Shall we pluck intensity from the air  
and perhaps coil it soundly and
extravagantly into a petal-soft bed
of rarely seen dreaming,
where sheets of silk make textured
messages into sequinned bliss
with rainbowed moonbeams ?

Shall we take flight, you and I ?

Untried dimensions wait to take us far,
to make morning metaphors,
and catch sight of bliss
made for our breakfasting bed.

Let us capture euphoria
to feel more elation, and when
glorious sun enters,
rapturous untamed passion
shall paint light on the face
of our embrace leading to ecstasy.

Shall we make haste then to taste eternity ?
920 · Oct 2016
Sea-Swell.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
The breast of the sea swells tonight
as her efforts to rise, heightened
by great heaving breaths, break her skin
like inflated balloons, topped thinly
with spume, sea bursts in labour.
She roars, tries suppressed pitch to gain
the shore, finds her efforts are checked
then sweeps out once more, tumbling
somersaults over herself, grumbling
with submarine thunderly sounds.
Begets disorder by flinging herself round,
sea bloats, yet moving no slower,
bellows ignored, her foaming tears flow
down watery frills and rollers make
naught of revealing  her saline-stained face.
Sea-swell intends to bare all this night-time
in majestic embraces with Spring tide.
916 · May 2016
Abandon.
Fay Slimm May 2016
Abandon.

Such a beautiful thing is a shell,
floating it sings 'tho half-empty,
sculptured for strength in excess
of accents or patterns an ecstasy
with wave-lovers has undressed
its close-partnered togetherness.

Oh shell of beauty, gone forever
your wholeness but in a sea-bed
still white your glisten measures
pace with the breakers in restless
dance of sheer abandon even yet.
910 · Apr 2017
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.
894 · Aug 2016
Day's Eye.
Fay Slimm Aug 2016
Stars like sparks splutter to bed
as birds catch fire.
****-red lips of sultry sun kiss
mouldering night
and in dawn's shimmering light
greet lightening sky.
Throat of thrush flintily strikes
other minds as incite
to fly for edge of day's eye sets
alive morning's
explosions that electrify every
tongue in flight
while I, amazed, note the calls
of each feathered
awaker who knows time's sign
has arrived to feed
if for today chicks are to thrive.
891 · Nov 2016
Uncovering November.
Fay Slimm Nov 2016
Now November's uncovering
reveals slightly
embelished skin-tight holds
in pre-winter flirting
of untried ***** first kisses
from her bolder
more moisturised rosy-red
lips. November's call
nips boisterous early-morn
breath, cools
dawning, catches the depth
of petalled laggards
full with dry doze of surfeit
summering and
tho aslumber shows them
her potential,
November blows her own
wake-up call of
uncovered cold shoulder,
so essential to
lingerers, with a real zeal.
.
885 · Aug 2016
Heartache's Shadow.
Fay Slimm Aug 2016
Near as we vote it, yesterday is, in reality remote
for that time is over.
Those bent on resurrecting painful events evoke
only heartache's shadow.

Fantasy drawn in wet sand is, by tide's turning,
washed clean and swept away.
Yesteryear dreamers who weave only for ghosts
will bury the best of today.

If instead of time-veiling we allow memory into
Now's air it becomes fresh.
Facing tomorrows without need of phantoms we
free Self for more success.
876 · Oct 2010
Fill Thou Me.
Fay Slimm Oct 2010
Fill my dull frame with stronger light.
Take thou
from me this darkest shroud
And re-ignite our flame.

Such blighted spirit can  but  disallow
our happiness,
thus this day I pray thee,
do thou
plainly comfort me.

I needest thou,
and with  gentle lifting of  heart's pain,
mine own
dark mood will surely quick relent,
then perchance
shall we lie peacefully again.

Come then, fill thou me
with gallantry and  heaven-sent
romantic words,
without delay I prithee Sire,
court me now
in thine own enthralling way.
869 · Nov 2016
Poppy Red.
Fay Slimm Nov 2016
Obscene as war is, none must ever forget
that poppy-red
stands
for the human blood shed.

Remembered, the fallen who fought in a war,
the red poppy
reminds
what they thought it was for.

Observance with poppies, each one a life,
given for
freedom,
as the means to end strife.

Precious the poppy-red, needful the time
lest we,
forgetful,
miss their reason as prime.
864 · Oct 2010
Born To Live.
Fay Slimm Oct 2010
Let the ties of your heart loose
and shake down soft streams from your fine
feathered dreamings.

Allow them to fly,
and take wing into life's pathway of unlimited  
space,
where failure is not to be found,
and where moreover,
fear will never appear again.

Your choice is unbounded.

Do not die before living your dreams.

Find your zeal in life's hidden field where you pick
every love-seed.

Grow it slowly into a very large tree,
the fruits of which free you to blossom again,
and which when ate
help you live wisely, then your heart will know
for sure it has a fine purpose , you are
born to live.

This is your birthright.

(So read the Holy Man's writings)
856 · Jun 2016
Racing.
Fay Slimm Jun 2016
Racing.

Days run on,bounding over life's hill.
Dash behind haste goads time on further.
Each frantic hour intends keeping still
But in racing along, pace begets ******.

Met are all needs when busy un-bridles.
Quiet rest heals weary saddle-sore self.
If haltered, rush ceases and gallop tires.
As slackening reins never cry out for help.

Staying the ride dismount heady steeds.
Break awhile to pick life's sweet flowers.
Age weighs after taking life at high speed
Yet seizing each moment makes days ours.
848 · May 2016
His Star.
Fay Slimm May 2016
His Star.

I chased this evening
evening's fade in sunset clouds,
silver tin-foiled filigree
tied to grey-as-granite mountains.

Tinted skirts of hazy
daytime's late farewell lit night's
ballooning moon parade
displayed as fire on quiet shoreline.

Invasive scarlet-swathe
hued day's best forgotten noon
when darker stronghold's rain
rolled dust-cascades forming gloom.

Drifted with waning sky's
azure came memory's beams,
pain-shot their spotlighting
shadows still haunting my dreams.

Yet I chased tonight
night's demons away by love's
recall when I saw brighter
his star winking at me from above.
834 · Feb 2017
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.
832 · Oct 2018
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.
831 · Sep 2010
Enter Tonight.
Fay Slimm Sep 2010
If thou be the spear that pierces my soul
Never will ****** seem so sweet.
The softest of places thou wouldst control
If thou enter, and never retreat.

Open the flood-gates to this waiting heart
The bolts to thy power will yield.
Love for thee oils them and no rust will part
Or bar thy way if thou makest a  start.

Enter thy sword in this scabbard of mine.
Mine armour bides ready for thee.
Reside in this haven, love as divine
Thou wilt find with no other than me.

Sojourn within this palace my lord, white
Sheets of satin deck this my bed.
Thy lady awaits, so enter tonight.
For by the sweet morrow we shall be wed.
806 · Jul 2016
Stretching Out.
Fay Slimm Jul 2016
I choose the rarely trod word-road
that takes rocky paths of poetic mindscape,
maps and clinches metaphor links grown
in unknown definement.

I look slant-eyed at morning's own
painting, facing blank canvas the sea becomes
jasper and foam turns to lace as image
transcends norm to new heights.

I view stary skies pock-marked
with diamonds, ocean outcrops hold mermaids,
sand secretes silvered past as grief-gilded
each sunset weeps its goodbyes.

I write emotion into whale-cry,
sentence fur and feather to human behaviour,
translate seasonal change to safe ground
for my fancy's winged flight.

I dare take words a stage further,
imagine boundless and verse a beyondness,
bend grammar by stretching out to sense
inanimate liveliness.
801 · Sep 2010
At Long Last.
Fay Slimm Sep 2010
Up from the deeps of darkest corners
my soul sees lightning
then hears a call
and as long fingers of love begin falling
from shivery heights
they start to distill
love's sweet nectar so I may be fulfilled.

A far ether-star loads and then installs
me in new time with
such awesome
style, my sky-boat takes its mooring
to line's full length
as now it hates
any but non-ventured high places.

Whimsy eats into my all-white awning,
because the grey cloud
which was on shore
has floated away, and the tallest
of rainbows is colouring
the past
out of my eyes, at long long last.
791 · Aug 2016
Specialness.
Fay Slimm Aug 2016
Ten buttercup summers ago
sweet gilt strands spiraled above
dual attraction,
moments fanned friendship
into smoke of commitment and
passion strewed
petals on beginnings of romance.

Five lilac seasons back we
picked scented happiness when,
defences fallen,
meadows of floral nectar ended
aloneness and love
waltzed thru' former convention
without any note
of doubtful retreat or regret.

Two hollyhock years gone
seeds hidden in needy hearts
took root and bloomed
as we tended the scent of total
oneness until,
coffined in fathomless shock,
happenings flattened
hope's dreams of contentment.

A grief ago winter's cold
wilted growth, buried treasure
and brought an end
to love's beautiful garden, yet
rainbowed in memory
those flowers still hold colours
of our very specialness.
782 · Oct 2016
A Stirring.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
A Stirring.

Three quivers of boldness coated in fur,
Courage minutely pawed at short grass
As that sunny day shone on a stirring
Of babiest mouse-life near my feet, fast
Yet unable to see, newborns on a spree
Posed for pictures and nibbled on cake
Like little pros, a shuffling trio of family
Shrews busied minikin fingers, quaking
Squeaky-delight as lips met free cuisine.
Whiskers a-twitch munching until Mum
Ushered them fussily holeward between
Sun-warmed granite stones. I had begun
To doubt the sighting encountered when
One tiny snout ducked out for eats again.
780 · Sep 2016
Coming Alive.
Fay Slimm Sep 2016
Coming Alive.

Cascading from winter's mountainous hold,
Spring descends, partially clad in earliest
Green, vibrant with seasonal need, and bold
With rampancy, it shoots bursts of new pearly
Fingers, fresh with sticky spring juice, skyward.

Showing impatience with tethered birth it shoves
And shoulders neighbours for freedom, lighter
Than bright spring-coloured rivalry then rubs
Noses with rapacious hedgerow fighting.

Springtime is never the gentlest of seasons,
Night views raw subterranian root-races.
And despite "lamb's tail" stories being legion
Coming alive proves a challenge for Spring
767 · Oct 2016
Only Today.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
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.
767 · Oct 2016
Tinted With You.
Fay Slimm Oct 2016
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.
757 · May 2016
May's Rising.
Fay Slimm May 2016
Rock's chill in early Spring shadow
keeps leaf-buds folded
while greenery's frocks, still frozen
in fuzzy stiff mold,
reveal growth's frigidity goes
hand in glove with cold.

As ice-wind becomes zephyr stone's
rime loses control,
frost melts when pairing takes over,
plants' ****** role
exchanges gender, smouldering
with intent that shows.

May's rising sun resurrects tones
of need-coloured gold,
male and female lustily hone
livened desire, hold
hands, steal kisses and gene-loaded
feel blood embolden.

As time turns to love Nature owns
the chase will not slow
for copulation re-proves growth,
appearing sans snow
stirs fur, feather and human bones,
to what all are prone.

The heat of togetherness sewn
into weather owes
its success to overflowing
need for warm clothing
for cold never turns bread to toast,
or so I am told.
750 · Jul 2016
Coping.
Fay Slimm Jul 2016
Coping.

A shadow, poised where the blow is to fall
transports and transforms
in its turning
as shot hits, making wife widow who learns
by authentic letter
but starts hopeful pretense.

A dream believed whole is but a fragment
transfixed and transient
in its racing
away from such real where tragedy faces
grave's mocking indifference
to wedlock's stark finish.

A battle-torn soul coping alone with grief
transacts and transmits
in its mourning
devotional vows should report prove false
yet she, believing he lives
weeps while cursing war's evil.
749 · Sep 2016
Poets Like Me.
Fay Slimm Sep 2016
Poets Like Me..

Suspended at portals of rigid
and well-defined
thought reclines most whimsy,
which poets like me
welcome and use to un-stick
rusted up vision.
Freeing the mind we care not
where reality ends.
Wonder notices even the tiny
and gasps at gross,
the newly dry gossamer wing
seen as fillagreed
diamonds with eyesight, night
versed with ghostly
metaphor, the tides as emotion.
Humanized nature
allures the inventive in scribes
bent on perception
where real meets make-believe.
Awe, understood
as a lever appeals to romantics
like me addicted
to all ethereal's seducing fancy.
Idealized love
presents realms of impassioned
expression, themes,
versing spirit personified holds
complusion, creative
vision awakens to other worlds
where, finally winning
utopia becomes no mere illusion.
What feels real merges
and mixes with linguistic flights
of beguiling imagery.
Life through the eyes of all poets
like me changes
at will from the galling mundane
to that which excites
inspiration for evocative writing.
744 · Apr 2016
Veiled.
Fay Slimm Apr 2016
I witnessed the moon eclipsing tonight,
like the silver stud on my sable dress
or a shimmering pearl securely tied
to the velvet of my black necklace.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Held by love's cosmic pull, her eye,
never losing veiled lustre turns pale
like you the gone jewel of my sad sky,
vanished from sight yet always remain.
738 · Nov 2016
My Regeneration.
Fay Slimm Nov 2016
My Regeneration.

Take care fellow traveller
when walking with me.

Wayward from now is my new destiny.


This is no powder-puffed
genteel lass today.

No more the simple or simpering lady.


Regeneration opened
love's door to fresh air.

The former conformer is no longer there.


No scrap of convention
is found in my freedom.

Life is a better place to be, now I am me.
732 · Feb 2017
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.
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