Let the secret in the rosebud
Retain its secrecy,
Afore the wind will scatter
And set the petals free.

I looked up into your eyes,
And I saw the heavens
And the earth. And lo,
I had erected a stone for you.

A tombstone at each of
These places, places
We had been together,
Places of sea and heather.

For you just left
On a fine day in May.

The wreath upon your grave;
Abundant flowers in a field
And the brightest stars
Adorning the heavens.

Also the tiny shell
Lying next to the pebble
That you had given to me,
Still in the pocket of the jacket I wore.

Your head upon my *****
I will gently sooth and touch,
chase your fears and darkness
and lull you to a hush.

I would that she better leave,
This temporary insanity,
And take her mad sisters also.

The one who closed her eyes
When she felt your hand upon hers.

The one who’s heart soared
When you kissed her well!

And the crazy one who asked
If staying was for ever!

All the veins,
arteries and trains
from here to there
are way not near
enough route
for you to commute
to come to me,
or for me
to be
close to you.

I have a little thought deep inside
my heart of you.
Not unlike the laughter lifting my eyes
into your humour.
Or unlike the longing it instils in me
to stand with you
on a wild and ecstatic windswept beach,
close in embrace.
A little thought not unlike the ocean
in its magnitude.

As a passer-by I only watch
across a darkened room,
marvelling at your healing touch
that turns the searing sting
in my burning heart to one
that doesn’t burn as much.

If you are only a vision
Sent by a Holy God,
To lift my heart
And take my gaze
Above the gloom...

You are also a sure
Enigma to walk with me
Just long enough,
To ease my heart
And calm my pain.

I have left you far behind,
The flotsam and the jetsam
Washed up on the shore.

And you are pleased,
I’m sure, with this place
That you have chosen.

A winged beast comes rolling forth,
‘Bout twice a night or thrice or more.
With blinking eyes from south to north,
It soars afore it’s mighty roar!

Empty head
Filled with lead,
Spilt the beans...
Spoilt the fun.

Flatter-flutter
Pigs in the butter,
Killed the fun.
Chicken run.


Pitter-patter
Chitter-chatter.
Spilt the milk,
It doesn’t matter…

Cry no more
Like before.
Water under the bridge,
Milk is in the fridge.

Dawn  in  the  sky                                                                          
is  an  opening  book,
as the  fetters  of  dark
gather  themselves
unto themselves.

Softly  fleeing
like  the  fluttering  wing
of a  gentle  dove.

My love for you was holy
and like a new dawn pure.
Like a green leaf on the vine,
promising to grow secure.

My love for you was instilled
by God to carry you  
on the hands of His providence
certain and strong and sure.

You do know
that I will grow
and evolve
without you?

Do you know
that you’ll stay behind
and be all alone
as you’ve always done?

My silence is also my grief,
Forgive me my discretion.

It fails me to talk with you,
To mention your transgression.

It fails me to restore you
To where I once adored you.

It deems me guilty,
guilty,
without a choice,
without a voice.

Whatever it was
or seemed to be,
it only was platonic.

Why then is the sting
of this tiny barb so sharp
within my weeping heart?

Why is it so ironic?

So sweet the smell
I cannot tell.

Is it a lily or
is it the girl
next door…

I can fain forget
How when we met
I lay my head
Upon your sweet
And warm shoulder.

And your arms’ embrace
Around my waist…
I felt your breath
Upon my hair
And on my face.

I close my eyes
And think of you,
I hear your voice,
I feel your touch
To my heart's rejoice.

Remembering well
How good it felt
To be with you.

Could’ve would’ve should’ve…
Didn’t…wouldn’t…couldn’t…
Ultimately…will you, won’t you?

Sweetly sublime
I mouth the rhyme
of the lullaby
in my heart for you.

Patiently
I whisper the words
keeping time
while I softly mime.

How  slow  my  awakening  is
in  the  small  sleepless  hours,
as  I  look  into  a  cloudless  night
and  find  no  stars  a-shining.

My  hand  is  an  upturned  palm  
Gazing  at  a  relentless  sky,
A  statue  of  frozen  remembrance
Of  a  gift  that  has  long  gone  by.

I  love  the  sun  upon  the  streaks
That  are  the  ideal  portrait  
Of  my  dream.

I  love  to  sing  the  sadness  of  a  flute
When  the  mist  is  in  me          
And  I’m  lost  within  myself.
                                                  
The  same  kind  of  coldness
Brings  the  same  familiar  feeling.
It  envelopes  my  body
And  smarts  out  the  memory.

A soft kind of sadness
Edging like incessant  rain
To a soft kind of
Happiness and pain.

Who is that golden man in his golden cage?
Recognizing himself in the mirror of innocence,
Staring at his image until he is blind
And only sees the profile
Of his shadow on the wall.

He is so sweet,
He is so nice,
His heart is warm
And full of vice.

A quick little rain to fall,
A quick little steady rush
Filters into my consciousness
And bless me with summer’s bliss.

Upon a chance I have a dream
And when I sleep
I dream that I can keep
You close and then
I wake and know
That what I hold in sleep
I’ve got to let it go.

The   sea  is  forever,
as  even  now,
never  the  same.
It  stirs  and  breaks,
mends  and  unites.

From  shore  to  shore
the  same,
yet,
from  wave  to  wave
so  different.

Perhaps  it  knows
the  Why's  of  life.
Shall  I  dare  ask?
And  what  shall  I  hear?

The  fierceful  cries
of  a  thousand
seagulls  in  mine  ear!

Into  crevices  where  waters  trickle
I  let  my  soul  divide
into  brilliant  silver  threads
Along the mountainside…

And  down  below,  it  drops
Into  a  pool  so  far  beyond
Where  I  can  sit  and  seek,
Myself there-in to find.

I love you softly,
I love you wild,
I love you with the notions
Of a trusting child.

I love you sweetly,
I love you bold,
I love you as the ancient rites
Are ceaselessly told.

My lips are thine
and only thine
Laced with sweet honey
and blood red wine

You watch me all the time
With eyes that see much more
Than the mirror often ever shows.

Softly pleading, watching quietly,
Following the purpose of my actions,
Reading me therein.

You are my mirror,
And my crazy logic
Reflects the recognition in your mind.

You understand what I cannot explain,
You are the beacon in my storm-sea.

When you touch me
You lift me high and slip me away
Into warm oblivion for one long moment…

The clickety-clack of wheels on the rail
Bring to me the reality of leaving behind
A dearness which is irreplaceable,
And unforgettable.

Two people touch,
their lips first brush…
bodies softly sway
in a give and take ballet.

Two people kiss
in a world sublime,
They feel the bliss
beyond the edge of time.

Lovers merge
in tentative embrace…
Then a breathless surge
to an endless space.

How do you resist me
When you know I love you so?
How do you say no
So easily,
so constantly
How do you always go
And just leave me be?  

Are the lies from your mouth
from your heart as well?

The lies that you give me
when you cannot tell
the secrets you guard
the fears you hold
the reason why
your heart is cold.

Don’t ever say
Don’t tell me,
That you’ll never
Love me ever.

Please don’t say,
That you won’t stay
Or be with me
Forever.

I’ll hush you with
My lullabies
And sooth your aching
With my sighs.

I’ll touch your lips,
Caress your cheek
With fingertips
And soothing balm.

When foliage take their leave
From crowning summer branches,
After turning into myriads
Of earth adorning bronzes.
  
Thick and luscious burnished carpet
In rust and gold and richest umber,
Autumn ushers covetous Winter
Into Summer’s glorious slumber.

Do  you  remember  when  we  walked
into  the  sea
and  on  the  ­sand ?
Do  you  remember
Liza  with  a  Zee
as  if  she  was  here  only  yesterday?

And­  the  people  
in  the  ports  of  Amsterdam?
You  loved  them  ­as  I  did,
As  if  they  were  flowers
someone  had  forgotten to water.

The  moments  with  you
were  the  moments  in  my  life ­ 
I  could  scarcely  forget
even  if  I  tried  to  shove  them
­into  some  dusty  hideaway  corner.
                            ­            
How  many  times  have  I  remembered,
after  forgetting  for  so  long?
As  the  wind  would  blow  an­d  stop,
and  blow  again  some  day.

And  do  you  remember
the  seabird  overhead,
trying  to  tell  us
something  about  l­ife.

With  his  voice  full of  anguish
and  loneliness-longing …
flying  high,
flying  into  realms  of  seagull  joy.
Inviting ­ us  to  join  in  heart
as  we  watch  from  far  below.

I think of the places I’ve been with you,
Beautiful places and wild.

I look to the stars where they cross in the south,
In tender-sweet memory.

Running the rivulets, barefoot and breathless,
At the wide river’s mouth.

A wild field abundant with flowers bursting,
And blooming and proud.

I remember the wind on my face with you,
In your arms both woman and child.

There lies a world betwixt,
the North pole and the South.

Even so, the South pole said:
O! to dance with thee!

Lynn.

You who are the extension of my being
are not here,
are pretty much not ever anywhere…

You who are the fruit of my existence
have fallen,
fallen short of love’s persistence.

PERPETUATION

I am angry
But not at God or you
I am angry
Because I lost a war

I am desolate
But not because of you
I am desolate
Because I’ve lost before

I rage the war
Of love and lost
I rage the war
No mind the cost

Lynn.

Anticipation
is a seven-year-word,

Annihilation
is a double-edged sword,

Necessitation
is forgiveness untoward.