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I met her once
a little, blind girl
who had let me
inside her wonderful world.

Yes, she couldn't see,
the girl with eyes bright.
Yet, she loved her world
like she never lost her sight.

She heard the music
of the breeze that blew.
The love for her world,
it only grew.

She acquainted me with
that music she heard,
from the buzz of the bees
to the chirping of the birds.

Yes, she couldn't see
the wonders of life.
Yet, she smiled
without a sign of strife.

She had beautiful eyes
filled with wonder.
I stood speechless and thought
how could God make such a blunder?

She danced and sang
with a graceful twirl.
How she loved her life
the little, blind girl.

She smiled and laughed,
her face filled with joy.
With wonder in her eyes,
she was serene, yet coy.

She felt her world
beneath her tiny fingers
and on me left a mark
that would forever linger.

Yes, she couldn't see
the life that she felt.
Yet, she never showed
the sorrow that she dealt.

Her world was dark.
Yet,  she saw
the Earth's true form
pure and raw.

Yes, she let me in.
But I couldn't overstay.
So, I excused myself politely
and quietly walked away.

I had met her once
a little girl who couldn't see.
Yes, she was a child
but the happiest there could ever be
Probably one of my best works. I'm pretty proud of it. ^_^
You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.
Take a soft tipped brush
Dip, and trace my nakedness;
Viscous dripping rainbow streams
Clothe me here within our dreams.
Swirl my curves
With satin pink,
Let your brush flutter and sink
lower, purples, red and blue,
I'm a canvas here for you.
Paint me scarlet, paint me gold,
Paint some words
italic, bold
Stop when you begin to weep
A masterpiece, for us to keep.
An old one of mine, a favourite.
Here I belong
amongst the rugged greys and guillemots
my heart in league with the furious sea
as it lashes the desolate shore.

Cries, mournful in their lament
soar through smothered skies
bearing tales of wrecks and lost lobster pots
empty now of precious cargo
ghostly on the ocean floor.

Salt air swirls and dips above the churning foam,
bringing stinging cold to ruddy cheeks and numbed hands.
A distant bell chimes as tides caress barnacled bows
lost at once within the swirling mists
that lay their sheen upon the dusk.
Inspired by a beach walk, for me beaches are always at their best in bad weather.
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