The longest lasting grief
is grief for one’s own self
for one’s mistakes
for lost innocence;
for real or imagined
harm to another.

The most important
lesson to be learned
is forgiveness.
And  the greatest
advice of all
is to forgive oneself.

A Kindle near me on the toilet seat,
A fine Prosecco and pizza to eat,
My i-pad playing loudly in my ears;
Ah, who could find a Paradise more sweet?

We thought that we could have it all;
we were wrong.
We were naïve
to believe
that love would keep us in thrall.

We thought that we would simply scale
those mountains of deceit;
that should we fail
we’d merely use
our own ejection seat.

We were wrong.

Random thoughts occur to me in poetic meter.
I tend to write my poetry like the childhood pastime
of connecting up dots
until those random thoughts coalesce
into my latest piece of verse.

Amidst the gloom and sadness
of so many hateful deaths,
I find I have again to ask myself:
is there a parallel universe
in which I continue
to exist
surrounded by
and pleasured by
the family and friends
I loved of yore?
It is a wonderfully
sustaining thought.
Giving up is not an option.
Humour lifts the climate of despair.

Formerly I ran like mad
to stay in the same place.
Now at last I’ve come to know
that this will merely
bring me face to face
with my own alter ego.

I shall have tales to tell
Before my final breath is drawn
Of such enchantment
As has stirred my soul
To flights of wild delight