They've been chasing me...so I stopped:
Why aren't they here,
I'm ready to listen!

Maybe, you heard them too?

[door slamming]
"I'm out of here, he yelled, I'm done!"
And he left; Gone.

Surrounded in the still aftermath, she sat;
Silently acknowledging she'd closed the door before the noise. Enough.

From cherry blossom pink to vivid greens,
a season turns;  This, is not the first          
confetti covered path
we've trodden.

With all our senses [not just the five] look towards those brighter,
clear blue skies, my love.
Watch & wait.

walking through, the burning embers of fires you started;
Alone.

In fields of golden glory,
we never learn lessons...
from gun metal steel grey skies,
crude oil rains run red.

("hello you, are you keeping safe?)
And the whole World stops, still,
instantly at peace,
You...
                             are remembering Us.
                    A constant which
                 remains,                  
                        when all else is in flux.    

               ~In another time, I would not / should not reply~

You are with me, as I am with you.
Holding on, to the totally known...

How,
or when,
those lovely words of yours
travel to find me doesn't matter;
I feel you...
in everything beautiful,
each and every day. Always,
with the heartfelt knowledge, you
feel that same connection also.

So beautifully, uniquely everything, of everythingly.
So rare, are we...                        
Your face on my pillow,
         The moon of your smile,
Those stars,    
                     the 'too many' reasons,
       Adventures...
              both wholesome,  
   and dreamt of.  
   Chocolate kisses.    
  Pebbles in pockets.        
Pink blue sunsets.            
A simpler World,                    
which fell away within a gaze.

Our secrets forever safe in our perfect. bubble, so preciously protected from the storm outside.

~We will never meet another soul, as Us~

Yet,
watching such a beautiful man endure such turmoils, was so heartbreaking for your butterfly...
Even if,
she does understand
all the reasons why
you stayed...

I listened to your turmoil by the sea (the chaos effect of your butterfly was rippling throughout you)

We, hurt Us.

And of all the 'too many' reasons,

Our life...was so blissfully simple.
Those times, with our children,
were so precious;
Reducing Us to tears
[knowing our potential].

If, a butterflys' brief life was offered longevity;
In a heartbeat,
her wings would shine like diamond...
So strong for you
(& for the Us, of 6)

You would fall,
& I could catch you.

That,
cannot
    be allowed.

But you,
my darling man,
know this already...
[It is not a conversation you are ready to have,
there were no promises...
there are no answers...
the choice to let us go,
   was the right thing].

Who knows where this path
- this new World - leads us
as our children stay closer,
grow wiser, & shout louder.
Perhaps,
they will teach us to be braver?
    Perhaps.                                           
O­n the other side of here?
        Here.                              
Where,    
    ­                             no matter what...
                             We do the right thing:

And where, together, we hear
the echo of a cracking heart.

("You are adored, without question,")
is all you need to hear

>send

Sitting  naked
for respected fellows...
nymph to Rubinesk:
Seen,unseen
  I'm purest
colour

Standing,
with nothing:
There's still so much
more to give.

Alone...
Feelings ease, as toes
are dipped, in sweet clover.

Brazen, underneath starlit skies;
Observe.
We too, have died before.

Bodies alight with
heavenly fires;
Intense passions igniting
honest reactions.

Join (and part) each atom of self,
to allow flow:

As saline spills, across arid plains, filling emptiness... with oceans.

One
single flower
may bloom, in decoration of
soulful beauty. 
     
Whisper our riddling...
over long gone shadows'.
Missing pieces
together.


Those need(s) of yours,
or mine.

We, are here... now


sigh        sigb
s i g h s i g h s i g h
S I G H  S I G H
sighsigh
sigh

Upon the alabaster, crafted; An ink
so deep, so everlasting.
Driven hard...
to let the art in;
Words unspoken,
sear the darkest.
Beg the finish
bruised
(& ******)
drenched
                                                exhausted... 

Open to eyes:
A poets soul's exalted.

So many                      
          
eyes,

       which bleed           unpausing;

  Pronouns punctuated;
  
    P a u s e, 
            
exhale

in places              dreamt of
                                             spaces
  where we forgot to breathe &
  each silence speaks  
   volumes

clarity*           ~ in sensing the fall~                             
        when known, makes        each spiral stop:
                     You... are still here,           you will         
                                                 ­                            get up**.

Ink* not ...                                                              ­             
                     the reader, nor, *give                              
                                          lettered meaning; Pen ...                                          
                                                                ­                interpretation.

in mixed metaphor
sublime similes
are always
so
perfectly
punctuated

Tempt not the silk beneath you, nor covet jewels aside.
Poisons' flow beseeching...*

Oh...  
*The ways she'd make you die

drips
blossoming
upon growing
pools


pearls
shine
deeply
hidden
within

Never freer, than the moving wood on
bitter breeze,

once sweet.

Air, which claimed a forest,
contracts flesh    still.

Only bone
shall run from here;
Blood and guts
surrendered;

Sphallolalia
-left at the edge of day-
in sunlights' slanting strobes.

And there...                         
              always there
                             (stays hidden)              
                  amongst wisps of mist;

Wistful, weary,
supping dew from
far reaching branches.
                                            Feet bare...

Hair tangled
from the escape of night,
in shaded visions.

**Yet,
sometimes,
there is just the
wood & no trees.

March hares light Her way through putti dawn*
~fecundity spreading beneath bare feet~
  as grey paschal masses embrace
rebirth.

By paper-lantern light

flames colour a snow crystals dance, beautifully enchanting, to

the distant sound of singing; Joyous songs of celebration, lulling all in revelry. Each note heard

in silent reverence, beneath the skeletal canopy of majestic oak spread. Where from amongst the

damp branches,wise old saucer eyes calls "Ubi? Ubi?", heralding a cacophony of wide-eyed

whispers. This afternoon, sweet twilight guides our paths as we search on ever onward journeys

unknown; Our arms collecting firewood, to fill the empty hearths of others. Unaware of the cold

hands, we are, when there's such warmth in our hearts. We toil within the stillness,  

snow falling softly,and covering the crisp ground.         From deep beneath
        
         the dazzling pure white,                                     tiny hibernating animists   

blink wide from the                            warmth of hidden

 woodland beds.                        Gently,         
   sweep the                   12 droplets
                             of ice from                 all our eyes, Sol,                   
                             as we cough        darkness                                
                     from our      lungs,                       
                       watching the sparkles     of no                                              
                      matter,  floating                  
in the  paper-
            lantern light            
       to scatter across    
this   Solstice   sky,
illuminating our fates,
as cold  snowflake hearts
twinkle like falling stars, unseen,
turning, embracing the return of the Light

You*
stand       there
- naked          & exhausted -
 a silhouette at   twilight;     Bowing to
the     end    of seasons     as a final gold tear
spins...    down   into shadows that lengthen, on this
  brighter day. . .       I will remember,        creaks out  
       from   an open spread of  arms in     a vast greying sky;      
Heard, by listening ears,    which embrace each darkness.
     Every  barest  recollection  -of ever changing filigree        
   falling silently to loom,           (hungry worms    
              feast far below)       where once               
           warmth    shimmered       
         in gentle breezes-      
             Alive forever          
                                               within*  *the                                             
    sleep of our trees.

"Simply free"- Beneath,and  beyond; I write

of beating hearts... bleeding hearts.

Reasons' resounding, given words
~ in gravity, or flight.

Curtains up
NOW OWN
~IT~

AS IF
  you're the King
   of the whole
    **** stage  

when

you're
really
  just another
player

acting out
for those
cheap seats
you survey

Where else
****
HERE

would
THEY
get to see
such a
[defamation]
-free play?"

(laughing)

"Best you
throw some sweets.

*Indulge them

...I'd say!
...I'd say!"


The Evil Queen 
smirks
&
a knife glints in her hand

Is
she
creeping
up

Behind You?
(or... does she need a real man?)


Ahhhh!!

    you see...

she's
exhausted
A-LADD-IN
& she knows
where to find you..

(evil laughter)

Ohhhh!

It's
just as well
you're in costume
...now  remember
your lines

"Don't props (& illusions) make a jolly good night!"

and baby, *WOW!

you look
Oh! Soooo cute
in those tights!

                                  *and with a sweep of the stage, the smirking Queen exits >               right

This stage
is all yours now

So Buttons...    take a bow
(us Brits love an underdog in a fight)

... Make your bow deep
~with a flourish of resplendence~
that captures their hearts

try more than That wiggle
-and a lot more-
than one dance!

                       To do it well...                                                          ­              
get a catchphrase

(which we'll ALL lurvey darlink from the start)

Believe me,
is good

Always
is
    another...

try
the one
    you've used in  
   rehearsals with the
  Stepsisters
- all dragged up-
looking
L
   O      
       V      U
          E            G
               L       L      
                                                 Y              (like their mother)

                                                      
 ­                                   cough                       ­ 
                        
                                **** it..
                               Everyone chokes
                               on the dry ice that swirls!

                     The audience ponders....

WHO's the boys ?

THAT's... a... girl ?!  

 
                            &
                      in
                 the
               low
             glow   
            they'll see      
    Cinders singing
of loves' sweet melody,
  those s l o w shoe shuffles    
        softly sliding across their        
                                             t
                                                   r
                                 ­                        a
                                                               ­ p
                                                              ­                             door hearts  
Laughing & crying along through
each emotion of the tattered  
sweet princess, who     
         simply hasn't had        
                     a Prince in her...                
    winks
                           sights             
                                  (YET!)  
       
then
  Act II ends
with

a Flash!
&
a Bang!

 
They all lived  
ever after...
      
Cinders' happy?

*THE END

coloured flames and fireflies dance mischievously around our heads

to the tiny trumpetsong of bees Joyous songs of love lulling all in revery yet silent to

mere mortals as We only hear the hush of whispered sighs stood beneath the dappled canopy of  

ancient fair oak spread As sweet twilight greets us again swathing our Ianthe in milky moonlight

as she rests upon a dew jewelled knoll still dreaming of fae Unaware of the cold (or the warmth

you hold in your heart for her) She smiles as you cover her shoulders with a elven~made

blanket of gossamer wisp whilst estivating toads blink wide in the coolness of hidden
mossy beds                         Gently,
sweep the                 droplet
                         of Au            from her eye, Deva,
  as we cough etheric      dust from our lungs,
sparkles    floating
in the paper-
            lantern light              
scattering across
the midnight sky,
illuminating fates,
as those fire-flies hearts
twinkle like falling stars unseen

Toes                                    
         curl over                         a grassy ledge
above a raging sea            Whispers
on the wind say nothing to
save descents to me

Angel torches
filter sunlight 
across a vast   
horizon
         of sea foam                    
   petticoats.
Where                         
 topaz  touches         
                    glittering                  
              cyan         
                             &                    
                             spirals                 
                            downwards             
                          through the              
             deepest dark      
                  blues - no body            
             can exist within            
      jewelled sapidity.    

Pieces of you, I've collected;
Soothingly held - *like pebbles kept in pockets.
Never once feeling the weight,
only their sparkle**.

(the gate's been left hitched open, with fraying string   ajar)*

"Although, I've left you clear directions to the travellers' garden path -
              yet, you've chosen a different route - to all you're searching for."    

I wait, at a journeys end of heady scents, tending ancient roses trees at it's breadth;

Sipping warming cups of rosemary blues, infused with sweet thymes' underneath.
                      
Perhaps, just an invitation to the garden was quite enough... to let fear decide your fate.

*Bared soles should move with deeper love... when pure destiny awaits.

Hurt... like the tigeress,
who stood on a thorn; Only
she keeps licking the pain ~
for the scent of rose.

Briefly, I glimpsed a lone tiger today.
Felt  her presence at distance, as she
   smoothed bristled fur... with
rough tongue!

Metanoia begs the muse   believe...              
"Accept the current, do not fight the flow."      

True, and known,
these aching limbs must
rest within the deepest ebb
- as the ocean swells
with each new
moon.

Drifting far
when floating; Sinking
deeply into crystal nothingness
- unless held by a sturdy rock,
tethered taut.
                
Promises sung, in rounds, stay...
Swirled upon a blushed summers breeze; Heard,
liberated, in flight's of birdsong
across sunset skies.
  
       Connected distant energies may still   
but for always, will burn brightly in each
& every shining light seen by
her sextant soul

[eyes]
on the
   Voyage  
      ahead.    

"Surrender the past  & tomorrow  comes... 
un-blinkered,
never unbound."
  
~ ♥ ~

living life* without a single metaphor, is **like...

. even' .
closer    let me
   feel you,      whole,
  as      our darkness
brims full     again
with pearlised
. light .
         

papered white,
there is one wall in
  his room of spines for
 a  muse. His beautiful
   abstraction ~ carved
  &   polished    ~
       hung as his     
hourglass;
Inverting
light & time
with a resonance  
of understanding as
beads of fiction fall*


    *Colouring other walls vibrant          
                           these spines shine      
                                   with jewels        
                             imbibing     
                           his souls'             
         faceted    
         light              
with       
            hope                  

        *      *   free    *         *            
                 her        *        *         
*          

"Weary traveller...                                                     ­      
                              Journeying, is not a destination.* 
                                   Come* ~ seek solace now~ & rest; Within,                   
                                                                ­                                                       a dappled canopy of forest light".

let us walk thro'
salve & orange diamonds,
to the place where sea meets sky.
             wild fires will surround us both, in             
          1000 jars of sighs.   Do we dare set            
compass, to where others fear to
tread & find our sacred centre
in the gold orb o'erhead*  
.................................................................­.................................................................­.

We  
speak
in flowers,
     heady blooms    
     and English    
Tea rose
     buds**.
     ~ *Taking    
                 scents    
                         to nose,    
                                             & to a                      
                                         ­       hearts'                      
                                                             ­ blank                                      
                    ­   book

Wild fires rage (dispersed & contained),
without smoke slipping through your fingers;  
~ Feeling the future is like catching sparks ~
    unseen
  ...

                                                                ­            "... Come,                     
                                                              ­                 catch her."                     

                                                Rising;        ­       
                                                         anew                                      
                          fr­om glowing
                     ashes.                
               
                 Buffeted;          
               by the hollow
                   of her              
                             shoulders.             
              
                                     Swirling;                  
                              amidst sweet
                           handfuls,
                          gently
                               blown,   
                                from the   
                       cherries  
                    pinkest    
              boughs.
                                         ­         
                                    Wings spread;                  
        
                                   "Do you see them?"        

                     Flying
                            again...

                                           Off          
                                                  g­rid         
                                                    ­         without       
                                                                ­    a course.      
                                                   ­              
                                                            Wild  
                                                          sparks­, 
                                                              ­follow her tail    
                                       across an  
                                                  ever brigh­tening          
                           sky.            

                    Let                     
her fire
     burn              
your eyes.
          
                             Watch,                     
                               ­                                          
                          as her tears    
                                                 heal your                        
                                    pain.               
             
                                                    Reach out,              
                          
                                                  &                    
                                                                ­          touch                                    
                                    ­                        each                
                                                               silver lining  
                                              as
                                                                ­   she                   
                                          ­                    takes             
                                                         ­       You                      
                                                       dancing            
                                              freely              
                   on a
                                   breeze...             
        
                                   Floating                   
                                deliciously,          ­        
                     with                      
                   nimble                   
        fae;            
       
Spun,
                   in the              
                   wisps of          
               tiptoeing
                  spiders.
                                     ­
                              Dizzy 
                           ­             together    
                                 (now)
                                             with the sound
                                               of their sweet        
                                                   ­  laughter.                         
              
               ­         ~Open~

                      in
                                       ­       a sky of                       
                                                  blossom &                          
                                                                ­       sparks.                                                
                                     
                                        ~At One~               
                      
                                as       ­     
                                               All                            
                             ­         around,                  
                          she hears, quite         
                          ... unmistakeably ...          
                                                                          ~for the sake of mischief~                                                       ­ 
                                         whispered softly, with                     
                               ­              each bluster.                           
                             ­         
                                                          ­ *"Do you hear it too?"                                  

Seeing her face reflected; Framed, by widening skies...
  Quietly, to the puddle below her,
she drips the ask of
"Why?"

                                             in
                                            shaded
                                                     copse & bluebell          
                                                 bower, hot scents of        
                                        wild garlic give way to a
                                             mist of forget me nots. Let      
                                              those sweet fragrances mix,      
                                       as cooled air glistens on soft
                                       green; Breathe deep, the
                                               earth, as it's wiped           
                                                        ­        from your                           
                                      twisting
                                                    back        ­            
                              &
                              you  
                                                  beg                        
                           your 
                                                          ­    ghosts                                    
                           for release
                          "Do you feel it?"
                       ~where the bud grows free*~

"Life is not always black & white, Mr Magpie...
it's ALIVE! 
~ See Yourself ~
Mix the spectrum, with those stunning pigments."

Undone by his wings of black and white,
              I spit in his               
presence;

As he shadows me
on these solemn days -
in singular.

His head tilted
and beady eyes
watchful; Hunting.

He senses
carrion.

Fly away!
Take your sorrow...

Leave me be,
with this
grey.

Do you see him behind me?

Stood, in mists of muddy red, with arms gesticulating;

I can't...
With opened closures.

Leave each day... and watch
my silent words forming stars above you.
Shining, yet dead; Overt within
nights black hollow.