The Girl Who Taught Me Magic
By
Jude Kyrie

As a small boy
I did not believe in magic.
Then I found out
without it life is dull and tragic.

I met a strange girl
with faraway eyes
She listened to flowers
and could hear their sighs

Her voice was like
a chiming bell.
She would sing loudly
over meadow and dell

She whispered
secrets to the hill
And understood
a starling shrill.

She taught me to speak
with the babbling brook
To know any bird
by just one look.

To breathe the magic
perfumed flowers.
She could ease my mind
for hours and hours.

She taught me
never to be alone.
To find smooth pebbles
and befriend a stone.

How to bathe
in a storms rainbow
and make angels
in the snow.

She laughed at the
wildest thunderstorms.
That crashed and banged
on hot summer morns.

How to dance
instead of walk.
And to stop with the
animals for a  talk.

Then when all her
magic secrets I knew
She fluttered her wings,
and to another boy flew

Now I know magic
is not a trick
It is the natural wonder
of real magic

Even now
she will drop on by.
Sliding down a
rainbow in the sky.

When she sends
a snowflake
to kiss my face.
I know she is back
with her magic grace.

When a small boy I did not believe in magic.
Then I found without it life is dull and tragic
One dayI met a strange girl with faraway eyes.
she could listen to the flowers and hear their sighs.

Her voice was like tinkling chiming bells.
She would sing over meadows and leafy dells.
Whispering her secrets to the hill.
Understanding a starlings shrill.

She taught me to speak with the babbling brook.
To know any bird with just one look.
How to breathe the perfume of the flowers.
She could ease my mind for hours and hours.

She taught me never to be alone
To find smooth pebbles and befriend a stone.
How to bathe inside a storms rainbow
and make angels wings in the snow.

She laughed at wildest thunderstorms
That crashed upon hot summer morns.
I learned how to dance while I walked
and to stop with all creatures for a talk.

Then when all her magic secrets I knew
She spread her wings and to another she flew.
For now I know magic is not a trick
Its natures wonder thats real magic

Even now she will drop by
Sliding down a rainbow in the sky.
When she sends a snowflake to kiss my face
I know shes back with her magic grace

spring fell from the sky
in impatient greens
that used their delicate hues
to brighten the ravaged
winter world.
flowers are breathing
sunlight once more .
now growing in the
cracks of the dead
skin of winter's chill.
even the wounds of
endless winter on my body
are breathing the
fragrance of
heady blossoms.
and my heart has never
felt quite so alive.

I learned as a young boy
that when I held a handful
of dry sand on the beach.
The harder I held it.
The quicker It fell from my grip.
I think that’s the reason my love
that I always
hold your hand so softly
and never ever grip tightly.

The hat maker

It was so very long ago.
The world was full of hats.
In the spring the hat maker came.
She pinned her felts and silk
to my mother’s head.
Added feathers and flowers.
My mother would be beautiful
for the Easter parade.
I tried them on when she was out.
Until my head became too big.
One hat in each box
Representing one more Easter.
Then when the chemo took her hair
We sat outside of her bedroom
The hat lady came for the last time.
She left solemn and quiet
Her eyes cast to the floor.
We all went in to see her last creation
On her head a beautiful
hat with flowers
and ostrich feathers.
Her head perfectly covered
Not a sign of her lost hair.
And that was the last time
I saw her smile

The Healer

*The sadness fell on the earth
like spiders webs.
Hanging from the starless sky.
The healer wept in empathy
of the world’s broken heart.
Taking a globe that held
all the places on this planet
He layed his healing hands upon it.
Tell me where it hurts he whispered
Tell me now I will drain my healing powers
Into it.
It shouted in the sorrow
of a soul in pain.
Everywhere.
Everywhere.
Everywhere.

Look at me my lover
She purred.
My eyes raised to look into hers
I could see so deeply into her.
I know all of her faults
Her temper
Her petulance
Her passions and vanities.
Everyone’s  has said  to me
You can do better
She is not compatible with your needs.
But a slight gasp of moonlight
Frames her hair
From behind
and the corners
Of her mouth
fall into an easy smile.
Even from across the room
She knows how much I want her.
And I know they could all be right
But I don’t care
My heart does not have
any control
over who it falls in love with.

I have wanted you forever
To walk from the mist.
With Moonlight behind you.
Your cape blacker than the night.
I await my heart trembling
Awaiting for your need
And my surrender.
No need for words
No need for tenderness
I await your desires.
My heart no longer covered
I wear it on my breast
Take it it is yours
Take me
For I now belong to you.

We were poor Christmases would come and go.
But what with ten kids and my dad's Meager paycheck.
There just was not enough money to go around.
Especially for frivolous christmas presents.
I remember that year when it all changed though
so long ago.
The kids at school got spanking new
scooters and new racing bikes.
But my dad had attended a rummage sale.
At the church bazaar.
Where he normally bought our clothes.
But he struck a deal on large Hoop and stick
from the Victorian era.
It was not a bike but it was a Christmas present.
I was delighted I practiced with it doing swift turns
fast Burst down the road stopping on a sixpence.
The stick was like an orchestra conductors Batton.
I could make that hoop do anything.
I took it to school four miles away every single day.
I kept it within  the bike sheds
with all the gleaming sporty bikes.
I did not have the money to buy a padlock.
One day I went after last class to get my Hoop and stick.
And to my horror
It was gone.
I was inconsolable.
Weeping like a baby.
Then the police car came
The lady cop was sweet.
I'm sorry bout the hoop thing kid
I sobbed so badly
Stop crying she said
In an attempt to console me
But I sobbed harder.
Look it's not good in cases like these she fessed up.
I am not going to blow smoke up your *** kid.
It's unlikely to be retrieved.
No witnesses no fingerprints nothing
A clean heist.
But if it does
The next forty eight hours are vital.
If it shows I will personally
run it home for you in the squad car.
But I just wailed harder.
*** she said why are whining still?
I said  sobbing the words spurting  out staccato.
That's ...sob ..all well. Sob ...and good
But how the **** am I going to get home tonight.

I know you are trying to forget me
and all the things you did with me
are to be banished from your universe.
Even the soft touching of our skin
is allowed no memory.
Yet you must know this
you may say you no longer love me.
you can cut me out of photos
you can even pretend
I don't exist.
But we had love once
it grew in our hearts
like a morning glory
in the sunlight.
And love is indelible
it prints below the surface
of our skin like tattoos.
And when you least expect it
you shall look into the mirror
of you soul and see the reflection
of our love and it will take away
your breath as it's loss
will return as painfully
as the moment
when it happened.

Snowflakes are softly falling, on the old town
Christmas Carols, are playing all around
The old lady shakes her tambourine
Making a lovely winter scene
An old fashioned uniform looks so sweet
A Christmas vision we always greet
As she stands by her collection drum
Silently waiting for your gift to come
As each person drops a few dollars in
“God bless you sir, be saved from sin”
The Salvation Army is always there
When no one else does give a care
Clothing the children of the poor
Filling the bellies of the lost people
They don’t need a huge church steeple
They go to the places,  where lie the needy
Not feed the coffers of the greedy
The god above knows what this means
Kindness to others, is one of his dreams
No question asked of creed or race
Just a kindly helping face
I have seen the riches abundant in Rome
But my heart goes out to those nearer to home
Who save the children,  from hunger and want
Lifting them up, when the system wont
There’s no better helpers of their fellow man
Than the good hearted people of the Sally Ann
So I contribute and help them out
It will be well used, you can have no doubt.

The inner ciity school was big and noisy.
I remember being scared and overwhelmed.
When I saw her for the first time
a cornucopia of colors In her flowing sari.
She floated no sound of footsteps.
Her skin perfectly brown
oh she was the most beautiful lady
I had ever seen.
I think she loved teaching more than life.
She wld break an adult meetng
to tend to a childs needs.
.Saying we must reschedule
I have a very important
meeting with my student
I must attend to.
she taught us patience and respect.
To listen to each other and to learn
from each person we spoke with.
she brought animals to the school
and introduced us to new species.
Everone wanted to be with her
when she taught us the class was silent
and every swoosh of her sari could be heard.
she stood by the open window of the classroom
Once and said listen can you hear it
I said its just silence Miss
she smiled and said no
it is the most beautiful
sound in the world
it is the sound of learning.
she would ask what new thing we had learned
since last she saw us.
A color a poem a book.
I think I learned how to learn from her.
She basked in her small successes.
Later she told us of the nurses a doctor
schoolteacher author and poet
that had spawned
from her class.
Now when I visit England I always try
to see her in her small retirement flat.
she pours green tea that she says comes from
the foothills of the himalayas still teaching me.
As I recount for her all the new things
I have learned in the years since I saw her last.

England 1942

The war was endless she thought it would be over in six weeks when it was declared.
now three years later she found herself in this airfield crowded with young fighter pilots flying Spitfires and the bomber crews flying the stalwart Lancaster bombers.

She was twenty eight now getting to that  age of being called a spinster of the parish. The young airmen were interested in her but really only for one thing.
She worked in the photography department of the RAF and developed pictures taken by the recon airmen of France and Germany and Holland .
Recently an American had joined her in the darkroom.
He was a big man and  had a crooked smile and big hands he lay on the belly of the bomber plane taking pictures he laughed and said he never fired a gun in his life.
And that he had no beef with Germans he just fired his camera at them.
He liked to develop his own pictures and they worked alongside each other in the darkroom all though the war.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands. He got used to her being there.
The war finally ended and he went back to the States. Where he opened a small photography store and built a darkroom with his own hands.
When it was finished he returned to England on a ***** steamer to save money. He knocked on the ladies door that had worked with him in the darkroom.
She answered and he asked her for her hand in marraige.
She accepted his proposal and they sailed back to new York.
When she explored the photography shop she found the darkroom.
On it was pinned a note in his nice neat handwriting.
It said I fell in love with you in the dark my love.
But I want you spend the rest of of your life following the light with me.
She was to be my grandma and he was my grandfather.

My father was born a year later
he had a crooked smile and big hands with a love of photography.
His specaility light and shadow.
I was born much later and did not share the family love of photography and was let off by God with only a crooked smile no big hands.
Instead I used to get into trouble at school for writing poems in the margins of my exercise books.
Grandma passed away a little while ago
i was given the task of clearing her personal items from the house.
In her memory box I found the note
in Grandfathers hand that he pinned on the door
of his darkroom so long ago.
It moved me to write this story.

So Go follow the light Grandma
Look for a big man
with a crooked smile and big hands
Hes waiting for you.

1945
The endless war was over.
We were all returning to the new normal.
That is if anything could ever be normal again..
The train trundled along the british countryside
The towns the counties passing slowly by.
Rows of houses country farms
The edge of Scotland  ahhh Scotland.
We Passed the cities into the Highland where pristine lochs sparkled in the rare sunshine.
She got onto the train at Inverness
A change of vehicle descending south.
To a London I did not want ever to see again.
I was reading my book on the armies of Rome in England.she took a sandwich out of her oversized purse. would you like one she asked softly.?
I was famished normal protocol apolite no.
But my hunger screamed even louder than my reticence
yes that would be lovely.
Thank you so much.
The food  trolley arrived I ordered two cups of watery after war coffee
And two custard tarts.
I showed her Hadrians wall
As we passed it.
The city of York which had been the centre of the British civil war
Cavaliers and roundness and all that.
I guess by now she knew I was a terminal bore.
But she did not seem to mind
She smiled and laughed dutifully at my jokes.
What she did not know
By the time we reached Crewe
I was in love with her.
It was obvious  a woman as beautiful as her.
Would have no interest in such a stogie old Bachelor  schoolmaster like me.
I had no skills in alluring the fairer ***.
Only Shakespeare Plato descartes.
But as the train pulled into Euston
dust from the coal fired engines entered
  a piece of soot into my eye
From the open window of the carriage

She came to my aid taking the dust from my eye with the rolled corner of her handkerchief. The pain immediately subsided. And she kissed my lips softly yet firmly.
I have never kissed a man unintroduced she whispered.
But I do not want to wait for you
you are very shy.

2000
The snow fell on Greyfairs school early that winter
We had retired into the headmaster's quarters which would be ours for the rest of of our days.
I remember the train my love.
She whispered her beautiful grey eyes as young as the springtime.
You gave me half your ham sandwich my love I answered weakly.
Then at Easton you kissed me first.
Like this she said her familiar sweet.lips reached mine.
That's because I found the man that I wanted for my life partner she purred.
The light faded in my eyes
She melted into oblivion.

I was on a train alone again like so long ago.
The British rail trolley came
I bought two weak watery coffees and two custard tarts.
Keep riding sir
the lady's voice said kindly.
she will be with soon at Inverness.

1943 ww2
The. Invasion force took
the never ending war
to the other side of the English channel.
It had been long in coming
but they were ready.

The invasion landing craft
were rusty made of iron and steel
like the men aboard them
They were all afraid.
They knew  their losses would be many.
They knew it might be them

But the duty was absolute
for each and every one of them.
He was a teacher not a soldier
but wars had made him into to one.
He could not recollect
when he even shot
a firearm at an enemy.
Or even if he could.

He was not a avid soldier
but he must do his duty.
He knew this
as he looked at the men
in the crowded landing craft.
The beach was silent no chaos
but in moments that would change,

the protective front dropped to the ground.
As he rushed forward
as though an electric light switch
had been galvanised.
the mayhem started
machine gun fire and rockets
bombarded them.

He saw his friend Johnny hit badly
in the chest it was fatal.
He dropped His weapon
and cradled the young man in his arms.
He died there calling for his mother.

The rocket shell exploded next to him
and he fell next to his friend
and lay as dead.

Three years later

The military hospital was always
full so much pain so much grief.
The Irish nurse was cleaning the soldier
that had been in a coma
since his arrival  several years ago.

She had bright green eyes
and red hair the trademark traits
of an Irish lady
who drank a can of hope and stubborn
every morning for breakfast.

She noticed his fingers moving
Well now she whispered
Its himself.
He's with is thanks be to Jesus.

His eyes opened they were
blue and beautiful.
Your back are you?
so she said.
I thought you were going
to sleep forever
so I did

When am I?
he said almost in a whispered
Am I dead?
No your back with the living she smiled.

It was the start of his recuperation
she helped him move his
anthropic muscles.
and learn how to walk again
she told him of the war
being over and won.

After six months he was well enough
to leave the hospital.
He had even interviewed for a teaching post
at greycastle school for boys.
The doctors told him to take a vacation
Perhaps  on the railway
to help in resolving himself
with the post war world.

He took the sleep train from euston station
in London and set forth on his adventure.
The old coal fired engine set forward
to Scotland it was peaceful
as he passed the green towns
of England county by county.

Until re reached Scotland .
Ahh! Scotland
so far away from a London
he no longer wished to see
after its desolation from the bombs.

He trembled as he thought of the war.
As the train trundled past lochs and mountains
of Scotland gleaming in the rare sunlight
he felt a peace that had eluded him for so long.

She alighted the train at Inverness
so beautiful and yes enticing.
Even to a stodgy old
out of work schoolmaster like him.

She  sat opposite to him in the old carriage.
After  while she opened
her huge purse an took out a
package of sandwiches.

Would you care for one she asked softly.?
Normal reticence was overtaken by hunger
Yes  please that would be lovely he said.
He bought two weak after war coffees
from the char lady.
And two custard creams.

They talked he did not realise.
How much he had missed
the conversations with an attractive lady.
He told her of his war issues
how he had lost several years in a coma
She listened intently to him.

He realised  that such a beautiful woman
would have no interest
in an old stodgy
Old school  teacher like him.
But she was sweet
and kept asking him more details
about himself.

He knew he had no skills
in charming the fairer ***.
Only his love of literature
Shakespeare decarte Chaucer
but she did not seem to mind.
By the time the train reached CHESTER
he realised that he was in love with her.

The train inched its way back
into euston station
On a trip he did not want to end

The window was open an piece of coaL dust
from the engine found its way into his eye.
she rolled the edge of her handkerchief  
and got the speck of soot  out of his eye.

The pain subsided immediately
Then she pulled his face to hers
and kissed him. Full on The mouth.
I have never kissed a man
Unintroduced before she said.
But you are so very shy.

Forty  five years later

They were old now he was dying
They lived in the house
allocated to headmaster emeritus
of greycastle school
a post he held for some twenty five years.

She leaned over his bed
and said do you remember
the train my love.?

Even in leaving her he smiled
yes my Darling
You shared your ham sandwich with me.
And then you kissed me first.
thats because I found my life partner.
Like this she said
he saw her crystal grey eyes
Still as beautiful as the day
they captured his heart so long ago.
The fragrance the softness of her lips.
He passed from her
The last breath of his in  this world
Was left on her lips.

The train was  traveling through the daylight
scotland came into view the lochs
and mountains the purple heather.

The old char lady came into the carriage
He bought two coffees and two custard tarts.
Be patient sir she whispered kindly,
She will be joining us very soon.
At Inverness.

THE Lady on the  Train.... A Romantic Love Story

1945 in postwar England.

The endless war was over.
We were all returning to the new normal.
That is if anything could ever be normal again.
The train trundled along the British countryside
The towns, the counties, passing slowly by.
Rows of houses, country farms, peace and tranquility once more.
The edge of Scotland ahhh! Scotland.

We Passed the cities into the Highlands
where pristine lochs sparkled in the rare northern sunshine.
She got onto the train at Inverness.
A change of vehicle descending south.
To a London, I did not want ever to see again.

I was reading my book on the armies of Rome in England.
She took a sandwich out of her oversized purse.
would you like one she asked softly.?
I was famished normal protocol a polite no.
But my hunger screamed even louder than my reticence
yes, that would be lovely.
Thank you so much.

The food trolley arrived I ordered two cups of watery after war coffee
and two custard tarts.
I showed her Hadrians wall
as we passed it.
The city of York which had been the center of the British civil war
Cavaliers and roundheads and all that.
I guess by now she knew I was a terminal bore.
But she did not seem to mind.

She smiled and laughed dutifully at my jokes.
What she did not know
By the time we reached Crewe
I was in love with her.
Obviously a woman as beautiful as her.
Would have no interest in such a stogie
old Bachelor schoolmaster like me.

I had no skills in alluring the fairer ***.
Only Shakespeare Plato Descartes.
But as the train pulled into Euston
dust from the coal-fired engines entered
a piece of soot into my eye
From the open window of the carriage

She came to my aid taking the dust from my eye with the rolled corner of her handkerchief. The pain immediately subsided. And then she kissed my lips softly yet firmly.
I have never kissed a man unintroduced she whispered.
But I do not want to wait for you
you are very shy.

2006
The snow fell on Greyfriars school early that winter
We had retired to the headmaster's quarters which would be ours for the rest of our days.
I remember the train, my love.
She whispered
her beautiful gray eyes still as young as the springtime.
You gave me half your ham sandwich
my love I answered weakly.
Then at Euston, you kissed me first.
Like this, she said her familiar sweet.lips reached mine.
That's because I found the man that I wanted for my life partner she purred.
My last vision in this world was her beautiful face.
The light faded in my eyes for the last time.
She melted into oblivion.

I was on a train alone again like so long ago.
The British rail trolley came
I bought two weak watery coffees and two custard tarts.
Keep riding, sir be patient
the tea lady's voice said kindly.
She will be with us soon, at Inverness

In between the delphiniums
and the hollyhocks.
Beside the potting shed
with creeper walls.
Rested the old wheelbarrow
dented rusted and aged.
Thoughts of my childhood
when I was  just a girl return to me.
Daddy would sit me in the wheel barrow
and give me a ride.
All around the garden
as I squealed in delight.
suddenly I am overwhelmed
I have a need to see
his kind eyes once more.
Hear his soft gentle voice
so mellow and kind
so sweet to me.
I want feel like
his little girl once more
safe and secure.
The need to find him
is beyond anything.

I look all over the gardens for him.
Then I see him stood by the maple tree.
He is wearing his old knitted sweater
that Mom knitted for him.
With  his corduroy gardening pants.
In his mouth his sweet aromatic pipe
that was always an extension of him.
the smell fills my soul.

He said softly
"Hello Kitten"
my eyes misted
no one but my Daddy
ever called me that.
I said Hello Daddy he took his pipe
from his mouth
His smile lit up the place
For a single moment
I felt secure and safe.
I was six once more but he faded.
into the ether of infinity.

My childhood was long passed
replaced by my womanhood.
All that was left was the
indelible memories
of long ago  times past.
Tears fell from my eyes as I
wept to go back,
even for just  one moment.

Then a noise as I looked around
at the arrival of the new owners.
A young handsome man and his wife
with thier  little son.
Who shouted in delight.
"Daddy there’s a wheelbarrow,
can I have a ride?"

The Last of the Maytime blossoms.
By
Jude Kyrie

She opened her eyes
as the noise on the stairs
awakens her.
At least she is still
here she muses.
The cat mews
as the noise passes her
on the stairs
.
Even from the distance
to her room .
She can smell springtime
it is like a last gift.
The bedroom door opens.
And her fading senses
are overloaded
with beautiful fragrance.
It is Ben her husband
His arms are loaded
with branches of
cherry blossoms
in full bloom.

In her head for
just a single moment.
She is a little girl again
Wearing her
White communion dress.

In the background
Children’s voices
From a long past time
Singing softly
her favorite
May time Hymn.

"O Mary! we crown thee
with blossoms today,
Queen of the Angels,
and Queen of the May"

She was a child again
Walking along
a misty pathway.
Around her
the fragrant blossoms
proliferate the trees.

A beautiful lady
gently took her hand.
As she looked behind
her so far away.
She saw the room
Where she lay
as if in sleep.
Ben was kissing her goodbye.
But she was happy
She knew now
the kiss was only farewell
She would see him again.

The last moonlight

*The blush of moonlight is in full bloom.
It has arrived in joy and celebration
of you magnificent life Mom.
All your trials and worries are fading away.
Like shadows in the glow of morningtide.

Hold my hand Mom feel my love and gratitude.
Let it be the last farewell for us my mother.
Even the trees fade quietly in the autumn
Letting their leaves fall in silence
So gently as they float in the winds.

The cycle revolves
about the wise old moon
I fold up my heart into a letter of
Love and gratitude
and place it into your soul Mom
to read again and again
in infinities timeless space.

I feel the softness of you
In my fingers as you slip away.
But I shall not shed tears
As you fly to the heaven you deserve.
They would only be shed for me
for the short lifespan that I have left
without your smile.

Instead  I kiss the lips that
Kissed me in comfort and love
Since I was a child.
And whisper for the last time.
I love you so much Mom.
For tears are not the way
for us to say goodbye

The last of the moonlight


The blush of moonlight is in full bloom.
It has arrived in joy and celebration
of your magnificent life Mom.
All your trials and worries are fading away.
Like shadows in the glow of morningtide.

Hold my hand Mom feel my love and gratitude.
Let it be the last farewell for us my mother.
Even the trees fade quietly in the autumn
Letting their leaves fall in silence
So gently as they float in the winds.

The cycle revolves
about the wise old moon
I fold up my heart into a letter of
Love and gratitude
and place it into your soul Mom
to read again and again
in infinities timeless space.

I feel the softness of you
In my fingers as you slip away.
But I shall not shed tears
As you fly to the heaven you deserve.
They would only be shed for me
for the short lifespan that I have left
without your smile.

Instead  I kiss the lips that
Kissed me in comfort and love
Since I was a child.
And whisper for the last time.
I love you so much Mom.

No I shall not cry.
For tears are not the way
for us to say goodbye

Rest Well My Beautiful Lady
Jude

For weeks she has dug deeply
into her soul seeking the fortitude
to tell him.
How do you break from him.
He had done nothing to deserve it.
Years of history
their history
to be expunged
by a few words.

He was writing a poem
when she told him
she was leaving.
He was silent
He continued to compose
his work.
his beautiful handwriting
almost calligraphy.
it looked exquisite.

She had not noticed
how beautiful his hands were
since the last time he reached
for her in their bed.
The deep concentration
on his work continued.
He did not speak.
But finished his composition
with a flourish of his pen.

She looked over his shoulder
and read the poem.
it was exquisite beautiful
a love poem to her.
Still silent he pushed away
his poetry.
And covered his face
with his hands
to hide his tears.

Not All precious things have a value
Not all in the dark are lost
The tree that is strong does not wither
Its deep roots lie untouched by the frost

Like the phoenix from the ashes has woken
Like the rose under snow in the spring
Like the heart that forever was broken
Will soar like a bird on the wing

In the darkness of the night.
That is the time she selects to haunt me.
I know I did not give any credence to her ideas.
She told me me she she was a mermaid
She had lived in the depths of the sea for a thousand years.
I know it was a sweet yet beautiful untruth.

If only , I could have let my heart become more receptive.
If only my ears cold have said listen….listen to her.
I smugly accepted her fantasy as a mild aberration harmless and mild.
She was of course the most beautiful woman i had ever seen.

She told me she was trapped in the deep oceans of forever until one day.
She built up enough courage to visit the surface where the humans live.
It was the abject loneliness of the depths
That had forced her to do this foolhardy embarkation.
She saw the sunlight for the first time.
The vivid beauty of non-watercolors met her eyes
The sunlight, oh! the beautiful sunlight.

He was laid upon the beach surely he was dying.
She crawled over to him wishing she had legs like a human.
Her mouth covered his as she breathes the life of his air into his lungs.
And she she fell in love
a feeling not known to her species.
She prayed to the gods of the deep
she offered her soul to be human.
Let me stay and breath the pure sunlit air.
Let me feel the love and touch of a lover.
She looked at her silvered tail as it melted
and the legs that appeared.
As he awoke from the coma of breathing water
he saw her beautiful face
So lovely so gentle ,
so much what he needed.

He married her and they had four children.
The happiness faded as she became ill
She said she needed the sea
The salt water would give her the air she desired and needed.
He tried every medication and all the doctors in the land .
But he was losing her. He knew -----he knew

She said i am to return to the oceans
To live with the merpeople/
I cannot stay here.


He watched as she walked across the sand
to the ocean that called to her.

Her children quietly followed her into waters .
They walked deeper and deeper until they disappeared.
In the late evening sunlight he saw their silvered tails.
His mermaid was gone.

For many months he mourned her loss.
Until he could bear it no more.
Until one morning he walked slowly into the ocean.
Deeper and deeper.
He knew he would surely  drown.

But he prayed to the gods of the sea
to give him a tail
That he may swim to find her.
His legs faded from him.
As he felt the purest salt waters of life
Accept him as one one of her own,
And swam into the deepest depths .
Far below in the secret caves of the ocean
he found his family.

She came to him .
You came to me my love.
You lost your fears and your disbelief.
I am your mermaid
Forever.
And you are my man.

The locksmith of my heart
By
Jude Kyrie

When the night is silent.
Deep into its slumber.
A bright moon smiles its bloom
as its doorway to outer space opens.
In the kitchen the dog sleeps.
Children making dreamy noises
In their rooms.
I feel the tips of her fingers
Upon my skin she is a locksmith
of hearts.
I have known her so long.
Familiar with its mechanism.
She uses the tools of her trade her fingertips
deftly and silently.
I can feel the tumblers falling
on the vault lock.
Her lips caress my skin
The combination has been broken again.
And the great door
to the vault of my heart
creeks open.
All my emotions and love
and desire are right there
in front of her.
She looks at the
hidden pirates treasure.
And takes from me
everything that she wants.
And everything
I have to give her.

You met me in a whirlwind.
My head was spinning.
Sure I was attracted
you are beyond lovely.
I have always had a thing for
pretty flight attendants.
And your beauty is beyond pretty.
But you were based in In LA
I am in NYC
I knew it could not work.
I have already bought
too many postage stamps.

And postcards are too
limited to express
all I want to say.
You awake in My Night
l awake as you are sleeping.
I have been there before.
I wish you were not as pretty
and lived just next door.

I am tired of email love notes.
I want tactile love
to feel your softness
here with me.
As we sleep together.
I am tired of watching
your tail lights.
fade into the dark sky.

You tell me
not all people
alone are lonely.
I answer
Not all lonely people
are alone.
Is there a word for that
There should be

You met me in a whirlwind.
My head was spinning
Sure I was attracted
you are lovely.
I have always had a thing for
pretty flight attendants.
And your beauty is beyond pretty.
But you were based in In LA
I am in NYC
I knew it could not work.
I have already bought
too many postage stamps.

And postcards are too
limited to express
all I want to say.
You awake in My Night
l awake as you are sleeping.
I have been there before.
I wish you were not as pretty
and lived next door.

I am sick of email love notes.
I want tactile love
to feel you here with me.
as we sleep together.
I am tired of watching
your tail lights.
fade into the dark sky.

You tell me
not all people
alone are lonely.
I answer
Not all lonely people
are alone.
Is there a word for that
There should be.

The moonless night
is as deep as any ocean.
Only a distant lonely star and I.
It sends it's strands of pulsing light
Far from me in countless miles.
But they land in my eyes
Sparkle by sparkle.
It needs to be seen as much
as I need to be noticed.
The dark is too dark to be alone.
The moonless night is too deep.
We are friends this star and I
We have a common bond.
The silence that surrounds it
also surrounds me.
I must be more like this star
I must shine my light
On a distant uncaring world.
And find that one who is gazing
upwards as I am
Waiting  to catch
my light in her eyes.

In the winter mornings first light.
I see griefs in the early
clouds of the day.
They are sad and always misty grey.
A thermal from a sun belonging
to happier times
drifts them into the distance
like passing clouds.
Always slowly so very slowly.
They visit me like lost doves
singing their sadness.
like a tune I have half forgotten.
I feel them on my shoulders
Cooing their tears
Like the hue of the
shades of fading memory.

The Love Birds

He
Oh where do you nest in what branch above
Whisper to me my angel, tell me my love.
Oh tell where you build your nest
To lay in sweet and gentle rest

She
In the meadow a lonely pine
Is where I mourn until you are mine
Mornings see my lonesome tears
Nighttime breezes my sobbing hears

He
My lonely heart soars in skies of blue
So long I searched and cried for you
Each day I looked in Lee and dell
Each night to the moon my sorrows tell

She
I know you really long for me
And all my love you can see
Loneliness ends as our love starts
We fly as lovers with one heart

He
Together on wings of love we fly
Until we touch the heavens in the sky
Come make your tender home with me
Forever as one we will always be

The Love Birds

He
Oh where do you nest in what branch above
Whisper to me my angel, tell me my love.
Oh tell where you build your nest
To lay in sweet and gentle rest

She
In the meadow a lonely pine
Is where I mourn until you are mine
Mornings see my lonesome tears
Nighttime breezes my sobbing hears

He
My lonely heart soars in skies of blue
So long I searched and cried for you
Each day I looked in Lee and dell
Each night to the moon my sorrows tell

She
I know you really long for me
And all my love you can see
Loneliness ends as our love starts
We fly as lovers with one heart

He
Together on wings of love we fly
Until we touch the heavens in the sky
Come make your tender home with me
Forever as one we will always be

I held the palm of his hand
Upward to read the future.
Our future
I want to feel it filled with passions
and love that last forever.
Feelings that had
burned in me for the past
weeks we have been together.
You had all of me
unbridled
naked and wanton.
Doing things for you
that I could not
even tell my mother.
I could deny you nothing.
As my finger
traced our passion line.
it stopped abruptly.
it was so short
How long do we have?
I whispered
He looked seriously at me
We have to talk honey.

The bullet was random.
To everyone else that is.
To me it was particular.
It hit me in the forehead.
Apparently if anyone
deserved it it was me.

They said it ruined my career
i was the best lawyer in the city.
But it didn't  
it changed me is all,
thats for sure it did.
I lost my memory
Had to learn everything
from scratch
Just like a kid again.

I found out later I did not
Like who I was
I hated what I did
Before bullet day.
I quit being a lawyer
I could not stand the lies.

I had lied and cheated on my wife
.a beautiful lady told me
she was my lover.
the new me
told her I did not know her
And I was happily married.
With a beautiful daughter.
She left weeping.

My young daughter
taught me how
To tie my shoelaces.
How to read again with
**** jane and spot.

I limp pretty bad now
Brain damage they say.
I talk softer and care more.
Then my beautiful wife started
to care about me.

She kissed me and
Showed me how
to make love to her.
She was new to me
And I was new to her.
It was our second first time.

Just as exciting as I could imagine.
Just like the first time must have been.
The one that I could not remember.
I asked of her how did we first meet
She says at a party
I swept her off her feet

The new me can not sweep
anything but the kitchen floor.
Then she said we met again
After a big storm  in our life.
Just recently and I needed her
So badly and that she needed me.

And that my daughter has fallen in love
With her new gentle caring dad.
The one with a bullet
lodged in his brain.

The one that is childlike
And is totally sure of
what is right and wrong.
But most of all the one that
Hates his old self
And loves his new found family
More than life itself.

We downsized
A small country cottage
But it glows in the night
From all of the love
That lives inside
its humble walls

Sometimes in the quietness
Of the evening
I say a prayer of thanks
And forgiveness
For the man
Who shot me in the head.
His aim must have been guided
By the angels.

The Magic Of The Moonlight

A love poem
By
Jude  Kyrie

*Sometimes
when the moonlight
is in full bloom.
And blossoms send
their heady fragrance
into our bedroom window.
Filling the air with
whispered songs of hope.
I lie next to you
and the magic
of the moonlight
falls over me.
It changes the way I feel.
My voice is soft and loving
It does not sound like me.
It makes me say
dumb stupid things
that I would never say
in the light of day.
Like I love you
so much honey.
You are the most beautiful
thing I have in my life.
And the Gods
were smiling on me
the day you became mine.
It makes me soft and gentle
I want to caress your skin
like a down feather.
To drown in the
beautiful softness of you.
To hold onto you so tight
like we are on the edge
of a raging volcano.
And if we let go of each other
we will fall into its flames.
It stays like that
until  the last
shadows of moonlight
fade into the dawns light.
And the magic moonlight
flies away on gossemer wings
back to the
wise old lovers moon.

The Man On The Shore
A Poem
By
Jude Kyrie


Storm weathered
and battered by stormy seas.
My old weather-beaten heart
awaits each new day
for your next crashing waves
To hit me.
Why don't you leave
and find a safer place
You say.
But I stand strong
Always Immovable
Because I love you.
I whisper.

The man with a crooked smile and big hands

A long long time ago way
before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the american airbase
in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
working alongside each other
in the dark.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.

When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship.
And found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.

when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note in his handwriting
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark.
But I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands.
And also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.

I cleared out grandmas house the other day.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door
she kept it in her souvenir box..
she had passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.

So follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.


I miss you Darling
love
Jude

A long long time ago
Before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was  an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the airbase in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.
When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship
and found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.
when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark
but I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands
and also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door
she passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.
Follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.

The man with a crooked smile and big hands


A long long time ago
Before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was  an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the airbase in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.
When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship
and found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.
when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark
but I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands
and also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door.
She had it in the things
I had clear from her room.
she passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.
Follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.

A long long time ago way
before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the american airbase
in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
working alongside each other
in the dark.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.

When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship.
And found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.

when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note in his handwriting
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark.
But I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands.
And also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.

I cleared out grandmas house the other day.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door
she kept it in her souvenir box..
she had passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.

So follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.

A long long time ago
Before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was  an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the airbase in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.
When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship
and found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.
when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark
but I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands
and also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door
she passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.
Follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.

The man with no name...an excerpt from a love story I am too lazy to write

Sat in the window seat
of the olde English cottage.
The open bow window
providing natures salted
air conditioning from the sea.
Breaking waves below the cliffs.
the only noise in the starlit night.
I turned to see your face
the one that takes
my breath away and
Fills my heart
with hopes and dreams.
Your lips open slightly
the words
I love you
are on the tip of your tongue.
They have no need to be spoken.
Because I can feel your heart
beating with mine and I know it.
You found me and rosebud cottage.
I know one day your memory
may return
that you may have
a wife and children.
And the loss of you
will be too much
for me to bear.
So we sat there
with the sea below us
and the stars above us.
I whispered
"I love you darling."
And for now
for this moment
I am happy once again

Sat in the window seat
of the olde English cottage.
The open bow window
providing natures salted
air conditioning from the sea.
Breaking waves below the cliffs.
the only noise in the starlit night.
I turned to see your face
the one that takes
my breath away and
Fills my heart
with hopes and dreams.
Your lips open slightly
the words
I love you
are on the tip of your tongue.
They have no need to be spoken.
Because I can feel your heart
beating with mine and I know it.
You found me and rosebud cottage.
I know one day your memory
may return
that you may have
a wife and children.
And the loss of you
will be too much
for me to bear.
So we sat there
with the sea below us
and the stars above us.
I whispered
I love you darling.
And for now
for this moment
I am happy once again.

The milliner

*It was so very long ago.
The world was full of hats.
In the spring the hat maker came.
She pinned her felts and silk
to my mother’s head.
Added feathers and flowers.
My mother would be beautiful
for the Easter parade.
I tried them on when she was out.
Until my head became too big.
One hat in each box
Representing one more Easter.
Then when the chemo took her hair
We sat outside of her bedroom
The hat lady came for the last time.
She left solemn and quiet
Her eyes cast to the floor.
We all went in to see her last creation
On her head a beautiful
hat with flowers
and ostrich feathers.
Her head perfectly covered
Not a sign of her lost hair.
And that was the last time
I saw her smile.