Sometimes,
Scars do heal,
Though they leave a mark,
It can be invisible,
But often, tis indelible,
Especially mental scarring,
And, Time, our constant companion,
Heals absolutely nothing,
They tell you it does,
Those who think they know,
Who think they feel your pain,
Who think they understand,
But in fact, grasp nothing,
Not one iota of the agony,
Not a single scrap of hurt,
Yes, they think Time does wonders,
But it doesn't, and they know it,
As you know it, as I know it,
It just lessens the pain,
Eases the burden,
It does offer hope, though,
This companion, offers a chance,
But one has to fight,
One has to struggle,
Rise up from the Dark,
Scream and rage at injustice,
Welcome Light onto one’s face,
Feel the warmth, love it,
Loving is the key,
And acceptance, just accept,
This life, this one life,
It may change, yes, maybe,
Change does happen,
Can really happen,
Sometimes.

© Paul Chafer 2014

The world’s, most
Wise unicorn,
Is known as
Falling Snow.
Lizzy rides
Upon her back,
The world passes
By below.
The night wind
Flows freely,
Through Lizzy’s
Unruly hair,
Holding tight to
Falling Snow,
A friendship made
To share.
See them leap
Through clouds,
Star shine guides
Their flight,
Sleeping safely with
Falling Snow,
Lizzy dreams,
Away, the night.

© Paul Chafer 2014

A solitary, single, step, is where it began,
Travelling the road, we all must tread,
Letting the world know us, as we are,
Not just how we think we should be,
Compliant members, of our society.

We’re always learning from the past,
Guided to live and enjoy the present,
Our experiences creating the future,
Happiness, success: not destinations,
But journeys, devoid; of all limitations.

First, love oneself, cherishing self-belief,
Ignore jealousy, hurting with malice,
Celebrate, individuality of free-will,
Choosing, spontaneity, or even a plan,
A solitary, single, step, is where it began.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Has anyone seen Leslie Brown?
She went missing earlier today.
A stranger in
A strange town,
Who probably just lost her way.

I’ve quizzed, enquired and questioned,
Almost everyone I know.
To be greeted by
A shaking of heads,
Puzzled expressions that say, ‘sorry, but no’.

Has anyone seen Leslie Brown?
I was meeting her at three.
She’s an Internet friend
Paying a visit,
I just can’t think where she might be.

In despair I checked with the police.
“Leslie Brown! Why yes: come when you can.”
When I arrived my
Cyber-space sweetheart,
Is not a lady, but a cross-dressed, ******* man!

© Paul Chafer 2014

Sitting alone: gently poking the embers.
Outside, children shriek in the street,
The dull thud of many running feet,
Go unheard by this child of the blitz;
His mind chained to the horrors he remembers.

Remaining locked inside his terrible fear,
From the Luftwaffe flying overhead,
Their murderous drone, his worst dread.
So run, poor child of the blitz,
And pray you receive the all clear.

Shunned by those who can’t understand;
This boy in the shape of a man,
Surviving the best way he can.
A forgotten child of the blitz,
Searching for his lost Wonderland.

People see it, plainly written in his eyes,
Passing him by; passing the blame,
Another victim for the war to claim.
A shell shocked child of the blitz,
When death rained freely, out of the skies.

Forever alert for those dangers long passed,
Listening for the sirens shrill whine,
Is their silence a very good sign?
For a terrified child of the blitz,
Continually bombed, and burned and gassed.

He desperately wants to forget, and has tried!
But the memories hack, and they hack,
And the terror comes creeping back.
So remember, this child of the blitz,
Who once lived, but who’s life sadly died.

© Paul Chafer 2014

The witch that lives down the road,
Has such long flowing red hair,
A Raggy Doll that cries a lot,
And a talking Teddy Bear.

I’ve seen her using a broom,
But only to do the sweeping,
I don’t spy on her all that much,
Just a bit of playful peeping.

And also, she has two cats,
One striped, and one jet black,
She talks to them all the time,
I don’t hear them answer back.

Once she gave me chocolate,
That I ate: I’m kind that way,
Sharing with my imaginary friend,
Who vanished that very same day!

I’m sure she does magic spells,
Making it sunny and the sky so blue,
With a breeze to dry her washing,
She does: I tell you it’s true!

Also, she has her own boyfriend,
I bet she made him from an ugly toad,
I wonder if she’d make one for me?
The witch that lives down the road.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Nothing intimidates me more,
Than a woman’s inviting smile,
It pierces right down to the core;
Appealing to everything I adore;
This subtle, suggestive, wile:
Whetting the sense of anticipation,
Igniting fires of the imagination.

Nothing possesses more power,
Than a woman’s determined will;
Disguised as a delicate flower,
Sweetness smothering the sour,
Regardless of the pyrrhic thrill;
Bewitchment in everything but name,
Savouring the illicitness of the game.

No ordinary man has a prayer,
When a woman stakes her claim;
She’ll welcome you into her lair,
Reject her desires if you dare,
Her revenge has legendary fame;
Travelling incognito: deadly intentions,
From this wrath, there are no preventions.

Do not ever, ever, underestimate.
That which cannot be understood:
Avoid the temptation to speculate,
Categorize, classify or evaluate,
The secret mysteries of womanhood;
Whenever tempted by an inviting smile;
Nod politely then turn, and run a mile.

© Paul Chafer 2014