In Auschwitz the air hung still.
The dragons are imaginary.
Once they had their fill.
The only gold fell from the fingers of those now perished chosen ones.
The birds crying relinquished flowers.
Lilies all dressed for death.
The classless funeral attire of the blue stripey pyjama death.
Now the camps be emptied.
Those passed inside be free.
Camp be closed.
All souls released, but still the sky hangs heavily.
May God please bless the free.
(C) Livvi

The setting sun shone through the trees,
The trees without the guards.
Where freedom's here now, left behind her moments of long passed regret.
May the sun above the death camp,  fall but never ever set.
In the minds of the now living and in the future, let freedom always reign.
Lest the world of true humanity, never e're forget.
(C) LIVVI

Stood on the corner of an avenue.
The fifth one I believe.
Watching city folk dashing by.
Buying what, I can't conceive.
Wallets are bulging.
Lucky sods.
Eyes of children open wide.
What to buy, they can't decide.
Sidewalk crammed with swarms of buzzers.
Voices echo through the streets.
Parents, children, A.n.others.
Sirens on cars.
Broads outside  bars.
Outstanding lookers.
Really just hookers.
Catching eyes.

Meanwhile in blankets and boxes, they sit in the rain.
Top of the subway.
Starts over again.
The rich scurry by.
All in a dash.
Avoiding the homeless.
A bit like a rash, I perceive.
Poor sods.
***** blankets.
Soggy sleeves.
On a hiding to nowhere.
Waiting for beating.
The ways of the world.
Happy Mondays,
Tragic Tuesdays,
Wonderful Wednesdays.
Thawing Thursdays.
And the rest of the week.
They're sleeping in gutters.
All labeled as nutters.
Have no bread and buttercups.
All dandelions'.
Shoppers all troll by.
They're just taking the ****.
Laughing at street folk.
Forgetting they're rich.
Not necessarily in wealth.
They have health and happiness.
They have love and laughter.
They have sons and daughters.
Lucky shoppers.
(c)Livvi

Stood on the corner of an avenue.
The fifth one I believe.
Watching city folk dashing by.
Buying what, I can't conceive.
Wallets are bulging.
Lucky sods.
Eyes of children open wide.
What to buy, they can't decide.

Sidewalk crammed with swarms of buzzers.
Voices echo through the streets.
Parents, children, A.n.others.
Sirens on cars.
Broads outside bars.
Outstanding lookers.
Really just hookers.
Catching eyes.
Put your tongue away.
Looks like you're snaring flies.

Meanwhile in blankets and boxes.
They sit in the rain.
Top of the subway.
Starts over again.
The rich scurry by.
All in a dash.
Avoiding the homeless.
A bit like a rash, I perceive.
Poor sods.
***** blankets.
Soggy sleeves.
On a hiding to nowhere.
Waiting for beating.

The ways of the world.
Happy Mondays,
Tragic Tuesdays,
Wonderful Wednesdays.
Thawing Thursdays.
And the rest of the week.
They're sleeping in gutters.
Labelled as nutters.
Have no bread and buttercups.
All dandelions'.
Shoppers all troll by.

They're just taking the ****.
Laughing at street folk.
Forgetting they're rich.
Not necessarily in ways of wealth.
They have health and happiness.
True love and laughter.
They have sons and daughters.
Lucky shoppers.
(c)Livvi

A vision from a study window.
My study in fact.
You stand there peeling your clothes.
As if blissfully unaware.
You know not I am watching you.
My eyes cannot become averted.
I'm sure, if you knew I was watching you.
You may well draw your blinds.
Maybe turn off your bedroom light.
I do not know you.
I never will.
If I saw you in the street.
I'd shyly beat rapid retreat.
Blushing to the roots of my hair.
But I don't know you and I don't care.
But then again.
I stop and think.
If I can see you, can you see me?
You are young, tanned, shapely.
All man.
Me I am woman.
Older than you.
By no means elderly.
No *** goddess.
Not bad looking.
You, you're probably thirty.
Me, the older woman, who is thinking *****.
(c) Livvi

This thing called work,
It's killing me,
It's stolen my words,
I can't set them free.

Mother's world exploded.
'Twas July in 63.
Hell broke free.
A kicking dervish whiling.
A noisy hurricane.
A twister.
Megaphone.

Bringer of joy.
Carrier of performance art.
Drama queen.
A bit of a worry.
Always in a hurry.
A hurt.

Impatient as a fly.
Annoying.
Irritating as a spot red and hot.
Perfect match for an old fashioned English postbox.
Burning hot.

Cold as ice.
Cute as candy.
Sharp as lemon drops.
Mellow as a ****** summer's afternoon.
Peaceful as an Indian brave.
Relaxing before rest with my greatest friend.
My only lover, my very chewed on pen......
(C) LIVVI

The postman,
he came late today,
Bringing nothing,
but great expectations,

For now,
I'm about take take a bite of life anew,
I trust that life doesn't stick in my teeth,
must believe in myself,
more than e'er before.
I have no desire to choke today,
Shalt not drown in true expression,
I shall write it out in fiery red.
I'll develop,
I'll flourish,
I will grasp at new chances,
potential romances.

I was given a chocolate tablet,
a precious gift from colleague,
a friend,
it was iced with the words, "Good Luck",
I am eating it,
digesting it's blessings.

As one door closes,
another's ajar,
waiting for me,
I walk towards it,
my head held high,
my beak in the air,
smelling the potential for a slice of success.
And I smile,
knowingly,
my sentinels,
my team of human angel kind,
all left behind in Winchester.
Now I walk alone into tomorrow,
skies are blue,
Let life be new.
(C) Livvi

A wakeful can rolls over the gutter, 'tis caught up the waking wind.
Outside the Asda, the not so superstore, where the doors are closed and the world is the same.
A painful world,  standing out in the rain.
It's a world where men in orange jumpsuits sit, they're waiting for rain.
Or pain, an escape almost knowing that freedom awaits at the makeshift pearly gates.
Drove past the docks with structures lit up, perceived as giant horses as if of troy, really huge cranes, but nothing like birds.
All desperate to see what's going on in the world as a matter of some kind of crazy urgency.
(C) Livvi

That child of Monday, now so big and brash.
Crept under my skin as an itch and a rash.
He was indeed so fair of face.
At 6'4 now.
With heart created of solid gold.
As he got old.

The child of Sunday, now 24.
Quiet and deep.
Hell can she roar.
Lives on a diet of chicken.
Her finger's she's always licking.

The young man of Monday.
He bounds like puppy.
Full of excitement.

The ****** was born on Thursday.
Her ****** was born on a Monday night.
Silent and still.
For a moment or two.
And then inside he grew.
She pushed him out, my did she shout.
She was so brave.
Moments without sleep.
In safety she keeps her newborn addition to the family.
A much cherished little nipper.!
(c) Livvi

Monday's woman is a moaning min,
She's moaning again, as Tuesday's child stole her man.
Tuesday's woman is trivial, she lacks interest in everything that matters.
Wednesday's woman is wonderful, in no way full of woe.
Thursday's lady, is easy going, always carried by the flow.
Friday's female is funny as the weekend's nearly here.
She loves weekends you know.
She likes to play the field as only Friday can.
A night on the razzle.
Ready to dazzle anyone who dares cross her path.
Saturday's child well, she's really precocious.
Her behaviour's  nearly always attrocious.
Sometimes she's just a little bit of a *****.
Wears a black cape and pointed hat.
They say that she's a little witch.
A bedroom full of spiders, cats and dogs and creepy crawlies.
Sunday's child, well she found her life a little tiresome, so she just fell asleep.
(C) Livvi

She's as beautiful as the morning clouds that kiss the ground, the last night star that is captured by the mists that rise in early summer,building extraordinary heat.
She is the beautiful princess who stole away your heart.
She sent you a smile, a wish and a kiss.
She is the stole you wrap around your shoulders, she stole your heart and then became yours.
She is fluffy as a kitten, who wears mittens , she hurts you not when she holds you close.
She's delicate as a bone china vase, filled with gladioli blooms and erratic ferns.
Then like a carpet of bluebells she's shining...brightening your world.
Good morning,the world is awakening!
(c)LIVVI

Take my coffee with sugar, teaspoon and a bit.
Have tea with no sugar at all, cos I'm a funny *****.
Don't eat very often,although I love my food.
Work  much too much.
Must be cos I love it.

Live in dress of royalish blue.
Which comes off as I hit my bed
Enjoying life only way that I know how.
With my pen in hand.
Me,myself and I are very rarely rude.
My persona unraveled, so now you read me ****.
(c) Livvi

Stuck in the bottom of an empty keg.
Someone got there before me and polished off the contents.
At least in a keg with no beer in, at least I'll never drown.
Wish I'd got there first.
It may have softened this rotten blow.
The apple pips are sprouting now, there's nowhere left to go.
The only way is upwards moving, apparently it seems.

The ivory tower is greasy and filled with many queens.
The kings dance round the chess board,
Arrogance personified.
That can't be denied.
The knights all lost their horses.
They all fell down and died.
The bishops they all waffle.
Whispered words of religion, a little bit of politics.
Polished hearts and mitres.
Super load of ***** tricks.
They're all out to spite her.

They all seem smitten with her kitten, but her dog stepped in and barked.
Chased the cats and kings away.
She's up and dressed, off out to play.
With traffic on the highway
Screaming loudly,
I ain't playing silly games of chess or towers.
Tomorrow the laziest lady is grabbing back the power.
(c)Livvi

A woman is full of sensitivity, ingenuity,passion, smiles, momentous special memories.
A nest builder as a sparrow is.
A warbler in the shower.
An irritating pigeon.
She's a vulture full of culture
When she scavenges the sales.
A mother clucker she she can be...sorting out her offspring's tea.
She fights many battles single handed.
Level headed sometimes.
Today the eagle landed.
Been here and there and everywhere,
Fell from grace a million times.
As a woman tumbled from the nests of childhood brood.
A phoenix revitalized spreads her wings.
She's on the way.
(c)Livvi

One minute past midnight on the first day of Jan.
Was born a baby girl.
Six pounds two.
With eyes of sparkling sapphire blue.
Delicate,
Crystal skin and a mop of brown curls,
Blessed with cherry rosy cheeks.

On the first day of February.
At quarter past two.
She took her first faltering steps toward you.
Wobbled,
Fell landed on her bottom with a bump.
Knocked her head
Oops a lump.

The first of March.
She had a ball.
Her first day at school.
Didn't like it much.
Missed her mum.
School wasn't cool.

The first of April, she was no more the fool.
Became a teenager,
Adult school.
She liked it a little bit more.
Found friends.

May the first her bubble burst.
Found her first boyfriend.
Went to the Imax.
Played let's pretend.
Pretend that they were adults.

June came in.
Her love had grown.
With emotions like she'd had never known.
Everything tickled and felt really sweet.

By July they were wed.
Happy ever after.
Or so it was said.

In August,
To them,
Twins were born.
A lad and a lass.

September came.
Her joints began to ache.
Her once shiny hair streaked with grey.
Wrinkles crept across her face.
Still with laughter lines, ingrained.

October carried grandchildren.
Life, bought them to her door.
Who, but her could ever want more.

November came.
Her hair was white.
She really couldn't leave her chair.
Her husband passed.
He left her low,
Feeling abandoned.
All alone.

End of December.
Christmas came.
Christmas went.
Twas the end of December.
She passed.
Breathed her last.
January the first bought her a funeral.
Cost a pretty penny.
Well spent.
Buried beside her darling.
At the crest of the hill.
And so the sun went down!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

See the sky,
it's burning green,
Recanting the tale of the eyesore,
It's invading the skyline.
A newly created tower of Babel,
where none can speak our mother tongue.
Some won't listen anyway.
The authorities,
those powers that be,
painted my skyline,
with a blaze of green,
and somewhat sickly yellow.

Jeopardized my locality,
Played. a dodgy game of risk.
Community spirit evaporates,
as big fish businesses,
digest all the little fish,
Within in the happy village,
a.k.a metropolis.

It's happening everywhere you see.
Through powdered eyes scratched,
Itchy and dry,
by construction,
big builders,
the pus,
the toxic grip.
The scourge on the skyline,

Stolen my space,
obliterating garden view.
If the choice were mine,
I'd dress the
sky with decadence,
with stars,
not stripes of colour ,
Give the council options,
Give them half a chance,
they'll build upon our forest hills.
(C) Livvi

Serenading the house.
The babies' awake.
Buckets louder than the resident mouse.
We're not shaken but everyone stirred to the volume of that cute little bird.
(C) Livvi

And the question is, what would have transpired between Sandy and Danny?
Should their paths maybe  not have wandered back into each other.
One hell of a collision, met face to face.
Sandy; cute Sandy, would she have settled with ****** Jo Bloggs?
Manic Danny, a soppy dude with heart of gold, around his revolution of teenage mates.
Did his life revolve?
Must of been his age.
Would Sandy still have been quaint, perhaps sickly sweet?
Whoever knows; after all Grease was just a movie full of teenage dreams and raging teenage angst.
Sandy;  would she still have been a corrupted wild child?
What would mom and poppa think?
Gee whizz, if this were real; perhaps her parents , well they might have flipped their lids.
They rode out of the movie on a flying fairground ride, did they stay together, or was it never ever?
We never found out, the faithful audience.
For in Grease two, no mention of Sandy or Danny.
(C) LIVVI

She walked in from the hurricane,
Straight into the storm.
The witch is for burning.
A cruising night.
A warming smile.
Making hearts burn fire.
The kiss of morning dragged her out of bed.
Left by the front door.
Into the starting blizzard.
Key in lock.
Door flies open.
Straight into the tempest.
The shrew in need of taming.
(C) Livvi

I have a sweet doggy.
She's so cute and funny.
My puppy's a nutcase my own little honey.
She's not a puppy.
She six years old.
Nearly always good as gold.
She should know so much better.
Today she's given me a dose of the blues.
She came into the bedroom and chewed up all my shoes.
(C) Livvi

There's a little girl inside me.
Her name is insecurity.
She's a lost lamb.
She's the black sheep to the ram.

In roars a fire breathing dragon.
In full command.
He doesn't want anything.
Only demands.

Screams and shouts of parental doubts.
"Why did you?
Why didn't you?
Why are you so weird?

Why do you?
Why don't you?
Can't work out what sparks your candle.
Mother dear mother.
I can't handle your ****** friends.

I pay my rent.
I do declare.
Stop bringing home ******'s.
I just don't care.

I care not what you say.
Mother you always make stupid mistakes.
Your stupid mistakes cause earthquakes.
Errors and night terrors.

I love you sons.
I love you daughter's.
Will make no more mistakes.
Of course I want to see grandsons.
Granddaughter,
soon when she arrives.
My friends are not junkies.
Drinkers or monkeys.
I will suffer no more.
As now I rise.
They are different to you or I.
I shall not stop writing poetry.
Never ever.
Of course I want my family.
I always did.

But I will not be a lamb to your slaughter.
(c)LIVVI MMXV

You are laid in my arms.
You charm me as a snake does.
You kiss my lips,
My life with you is pure bliss.
I'm laying in the arms of heaven,
Chaste, but not pure.
You purr at me from a perfect distance.
Pray baby,
let us fly,
Let us cruise the purplish skies.
The clouds are black,
Now there's no turning back.
The corkscrew turns,
A pressure release.
This tormenting tiger,
Can be a loving lion.
So lets ****,
Let's **** each other up,
To the rhythm of the dark.
(c) Livvi

Left the stage.
Exited stage left.
Her swan song lifted spirits.
Perfect performance.
Drama filled.
Last breath then she was gone.

Her bolstered tutu puffed up proudly.
Released her wings.
Trumpeters played, then she was gone.
One last gasp, she was done.
To her audience a revelation.
The flowers they threw fell in stems.
Time and time again.
An apparition that still remains.
Daily the stems of falling flowers lay.
When bought forth the janitor comes to clean.
The flowers have gone if you know what I mean.
Another supernatural scene.

Her name headlined all the papers.
Was front page news.
Now just the ballerina who passed on the stage.
Not even a paragraph given.
The headlines for the tabloid's now, are only for the living.
(c) Livvi

An entire gang of working fellows,
have the world,
at the end of their toes,
hearts get broken,
then get fixed,
in the flash of a moment,
one huge kick,
some sound,
just a little thick,
but they're not,
they are shrewd,
know how to make their money,
booting a bag of cold air around,
inflated *****,
Egos flying,
world cup,
en route,
rather trying,
t.v's overtaken,
only way to please the boys.
(C) Livvi

My ***** are killing me today.
They're really sore.
Abused too much.
Been using them all day and night.
Just a little callous.
Worked thirteen hours on the go
The ***** are those on the soles of my feet!
(c) Livvi

They waved their guns up at the sun.
Bang bang,
Corona expired.
Ousted fire.
Bang bang you're dead.
Blame laid unfair and square.
On evil's ugly head.
All gone.
No replacement no repair.
Not fair.
But that's life.
Terrorist's wife.
(c)Livvi

Dead boys on beaches.
The world's going mad.
How in hell's name.
It's just too f**king sad.
The images, too much to bear.
Please we all know,so please don't share.
The child, whoever he is lost his life.
Death without dignity.
Please send him a prayer.
I'm not religious but, hell I so care.
There is apparently one saving grace.
They say his family are in the same place.
Too much.
Escape to death,one last mark of respect, I'm holding my breath.
I shall again breathe.
Holding tears on my sleeve.
Politicians, it's time to act.
(c)Livvi.

I have a tiny teddy bear, with a tartan collar.
It has a bell attached, just so I can hear it playing.
It sits silently on my pillow during daylight hours.
I gave it a name.
"Edward Surprisingly."
Someone bought it a rain hat.
Can't remember who.
I swear, that I heard the ringing it's jingly jangly bell the other night.
The darkness seemed to echo through the atmosphere of night.

Today I went to work.
I got in rather late.
Went into my bedroom.
Just to change my clothes.
I parked my posterior on my bed.
Expected to find him.
Smiling at me in a bear sort of way.
On my bed, right next to my pillow.
Nothing's there.
Not hide nor heel of Edward.
My ever faithful loving bear.
Heard a strange ringing running through my head.
Went off to investigate.
Edward, my lovely diminunitive friend, was curled up in my grandsons bed.
Maybe,
Just maybe Edward, had realised that the baby loves a teddy bear.
Rather more than me.
He felt that I'd neglected him.
He thought I didn't care.
I did.
Edward was my confidante.
He knows all things good and true.
A few bad things too.
Hoping in my heart of hearts,
that he doesn't tell you.
If he did I'm lucky, as baby, he so cannot speak.
My secret's safe with him as well.

(C) Livvi

To survive there's a nothing to have and a no-one to hold.
A minimal gift,
A construction of solid gold.
To feel desire and be desired again.
When all the world outside is cold.
Inside is close to the same.
Just a vacant space where no-one else matters.
To live alone in a lie.
A selfish existence.
Where silence is shattered by the sound of blunt razor blades screaming.
Causing pain as they struggle to rip out a tender heart.
Still beating in unspeakable sorrow.
As day upon day cries into tomorrow!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

He wasn't my Daddy, but he bathed me real good,
With shower gel my heart invaded,
Most of this chicken many others have not seen,
Gave me a body bath cos he just ain't mean,
Washed my hair,
Not sure where,
Not sure how,
Guess I'm just a dozy cow,
I made him soggy,
Drenched him from my red hot bath,
My lovely boyfriend,
JC, my God how I so made him laugh,
I made him sweat with mischief,
Made him oh so very wet!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Strewn across the battlefield a party of discarded heads,
Peeled, dripping as blood oranges,
Wrapped in a residue of wrinkled skin,
A ****** of crows circle over head,
Waiting to collect rich pickings,
Leftover lunch from the spoils of war!

Stench of evil fills the ***** air,
As a lone piper,
Plays his mournful lament of sorrow,
Deeply disturbed by unkind vision of sin!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Once there was Brighton rock, sent with love from Graeme Green.
My early life bore sticks of rock in candy stripes or perfect pink.
My young days were blessed by gift shops and cold cafe winters and buckets of sand.
Paignton, one of several beach fronts that I had encountered.
Another  beach I met when I was wee.
Was lovely Weymouth, stocked with historical regency.
Upon the sands was to be found a perfect sculptor played with sand.
A maker of  the sphinx,and of cars and crowns.
Stole all the little children's tears and frowns.
Built Neptune complete with his chariot and maybe just another modest castle.
Almost fit to suit a modern day queen.
Mr Punch and Mrs Judy.
The puppeteer's hand shoved up both their bottoms at once.
Poor knackered donkeys plodded.
Their bridles labelled with their names.
All gone now.
Think the animal rights brigade may have stepped in there.
Punch and Judy deemed inappropriate and the sandman left.
Guess they put him to sleep or maybe they're just taxing his sand.
(C) Livvi

BEACON
You are a beacon in the darkness of night.
You kiss me as the frost bites.
With highly charged most vicious teeth.
Which, sink in hard and fast.
It's ravenous.
As if a child of long past nights.
Hunger turns to starvation.
You swathed me with eternal mist.
Stranded in a land, in which I'm sorely lost.
(C)LIVVI

You are a beacon in the darkness of night.
You kiss me as the frost bites.
With highly charged most vicious teeth.
Which, sink in hard and fast.
It's ravenous.
As if a child of long past nights.
Hunger turns to starvation.
You swathed me with eternal mist.
Stranded in a land, in which I'm sorely lost.
(C)LIVVI

Crispy morning, a chill of ears.
Grass crunches under foot.
Stairs to the train with it's lacking effect, non-slip grip.
A hurry, a stumble, nearly a tumble.
In a scramble, to hurry to work.

Naked branches scurrying, next to the track.
All loaded with nests of frozen birds, clinging on to their clutch.
After the pain of the wind and the rain,  expectantly waiting for springtime to visit again.
This morning delight, world slightly white, sunshine's radiance purely reflective.
Averting the eyes of those on the train, where sunlight, so bright caused visual pain, but no-one complained, and the sunshine remained.

Down the hillsides we stroll.
It's so very cold.
Ice bites the fingers.
The heart that's ablaze.
A hawk projects her image 'pon the skyline a glow.
Look at the sky sending pictures of snow.
Not snowing yet, we must not forget.
Snow's on her way by the end of the day.
Home we must away.
To sit by the fire, ablaze in the hearth.
Before the blizzard of cruelty assaults mother earth.
Supplies we have many.
They're stashed in the larder.
We purchased of plenty afore the weather became harder.
Standing on the peak at the top of the world, be a stag full of antlers.
They are weighing him down.
Tis only mine to wonder, where he doth go,
To stay safe and warm from the assailing snow.
Sanctuary now for me and thee.
Inside our refuge.
Where the evils of winter have visible charm.
Inside all cosy protected from harm.
(C) LIVVI

She has beautiful eyes.
She sat on the bus.
She has beautiful eyes.
A husband in tow.
A child with beautiful eyes.
It's in her genes.
She's wearing her jeans.
Her hair in baubles and bands
Until her age and religion demands.
Then under her Burka, all you'll be able see are her beautiful eyes.
Religious clothes of perfect choice.
Islamic voice.
(c) Livvi

She is beautiful.
Lives in the eye of the beholder.
She is stunning.
Shunned by society.
Her skin is thickened.
It has to be.
Face to face daily with adversity.
She is a motherless child.
Grown up now.
Mother's still there.
A childless mother.
She is a lady unlike any other.
As such she will thrive.
She's staying alive.
Living and breathing.
Taking five.
Gasping and striving.
Making a living.
The power of the voice.
A choice.
Only she can make.
(C) LIVVI MMXV

Bedlam is empty.
Silence reigns, where banshees wailed.
Heaviness lifted.
Darkness enlightened.
Now, young evacuated by the calling of the clubs.
Consumption of alcohol
Flying high on crazy drugs.
Midnight comes.
The police arrive.
Streets of bedlam re-occupied.
Handcuffs.
Noisy cells.
Clubbers, feeling not so well.
Tomorrow heads all filled with fluff.
Silly sods.
Feeling rough!
(C) LIVVI

Bedroom Eyes!

How we made love in the bedroom of sighs.
Where I looked deep into your very dark eyes.
In the bedroom where a living love died.
Two hearts combined,
Just a moment in time.
When I was yours and you were mine.

You no longer bow in my honour my Lord.
My word it's broken as is my heart.
As powdered glass it lives on the floor.
For I can meet you never more.
You had my soul for a moment.
In a year or slightly less.
You.
You were truly wonderful.
Were truly the best.

I hold the love we made so close.
For still I hold you dear.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Bedroom Eyes!

How we made love in the bedroom of sighs.
Where I looked deep into your very dark eyes.
In the bedroom where a living love died.
Two hearts combined,
Just a moment in time.
When I was yours and you were mine.

You no longer bow in my honour my Lord.
My word it's broken as is my heart.
As powdered glass it lives on the floor.
For I can meet you never more.
You had my soul for a moment.
In a year or slightly less.
You.
You were truly wonderful.
Were truly the best.

I hold the love we made so close.
For still I hold you dear.
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

I sleep in a room with a glass ceiling.
I am a woman with simple ambition.
I love to watch the stars collide,
As they're flying through the heavens.
Faster than a bullet,leaving pepper spray behind.
I truly love to see the rain,
time and time again,
Tumbling as bouncing acrobats and swirling ballerinas.
I love thunder and lightning.
Especially.
If they ****** precious moments of sleep,
I loathe missing thunderstorms,
I detest sleeping through them.
Then, sometimes it snows,
The room chills as much as me.
I love to lay under my coveted duvet.
Reminiscing, enjoying the sweet scent of success,
Reflecting some more on the day that just flew.
And then,
just one more time,
I reflect on days gone by,
before the gift of much treasured sleep,
kisses the lids of my eyes.
© Livvi

Bed is calling.
I can hear it loud.
Got to fight it.
Wrestle it to the ground.
Get away, I scream.
Monday's already arriving too soon.
Of that there is no doubt.

With cat of nine tails got it.
Trapped it in the corner.
I will not obey it's call.
I am a stubborn soul.
Will grace the bed with sweet retreat.
When my body's feeling cold.

Morning coming round too quick.
Thought of work makes me feel sick.
Okay on my part.
Slight exaggeration.
Just my wild imagination.
Who the hell fights beds anyway.
I have no whips or chains.
A cat of nine tails, not a chance.
Would lead my dog a merry dance!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Making love in open fields beneath the summer sun.
Full of mischief.
Touching each other in most special places.
Good bye my old friends.
You're hiding your faces.
Blushing crimson.

It's winter now the clouds have formed.
Auburn haired baby doll, a grey haired old dame.
No more love in open spaces..hell it's such a shame.
Arrested by time.
Those manacles of aching joints.

Been ages since we loved beneath the summer sun.
Between the trees that made us sneeze.
We laid and played as teenagers.
Making fresh new love with virtually strangers.
We're older now.
That sort of stuff is frowned upon.

Our adult children frown upon us now.
As we come in with muddy pants.
They don't believe what we know of romance.
We took the chance.
A beguiling wink.
A nod and a smile.
If only they knew they'd run a mile.
(C) Livvi

Behold. the truth, such pure joy.
Surveyed the world at the first light.
New life arose.
All glory, my tree, she blossoms again, perhaps mother nature changed direction.
Bought us, her world, a present of spring.
(c) LIVVI 2014