Thoughts of you
drift into my mind.
Coloured images whirling
as you flick open the catch
that releases my desires.
Body, mind and soul
become drenched
by, dream-like imagery
as fingers slowly entwine.
The subtle interlocking of emotions
quickening every breath
as hearts and minds blend
together in a magical union.
And we dance;
how  . . . we . . . dance.
Such poetry in motion,
the music only ceasing
when reality returns
as the dream, slowly
but surely, fades, and
slips away.
And I wonder:
forever wonder;
where you are: if you are,
and lament for the life
we’ll never, ever know.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Poetry lives, sleeps, deep, deep within,
The words, waiting, waiting, waiting,
Nurtured, soothed, lovingly cajoled,
Given form and purpose, till they rise,
Coming to life, unbidden, bursting free.

They echo around the globe, touching,
Slipping silkily into hearts and minds,
Subtly connecting with new-born ideas,
Mingling, coalescing, waiting, waiting,
That’s where poetry come from, (yes),
Poetry lives, sleeps, deep, deep within.

©Paul M Chafer 2016

Within our conscious thoughts,
Beneath desires of wandering souls,
Dreams drift across a lake of truth,
Hopes swim in spiralling shoals,
Making it impossible not to smile,
At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle.

Opulent rooms with silken sheets,
Serviced twenty-four-hours a day,
Check in and out, whenever you like,
Nobody will ever be turned away,
Put up your feet, stay for a while,
At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle.

The waiters are all they should be,
Girls frolic freely around the pool,
Appetising hot food to spice you up,
Tall drinks that will keep you cool,
Magic fantasies are always in style,
At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle.

Enjoy pleasures with kindred spirits,
Relaxing, not caring, in the least,
Savouring hopes, dreams and desires,
Sharing love, indulging in the feast,
Devoid of guilt, regret, and denial,
At Invitation Inn, on Tropical Isle.

©Paul Chafer 2014

So, please do remember me,
The man who I used to be,
Then heed, if you can heed,
The stranger I have become,
Stepping through open doors,
Finding I must fight everyday,
My mettle twisted a thousand-fold,
From smashing ancient barriers,
Questing a seemingly impossible truth,
Discovering such knowledge,
Conquering all gods, slaying lies,
Exposing ideals that will never be,
Superstition broken, setting me free.

Examine beliefs, looking deep,
Never accept comforting blind faith,
Wrestle with the thorny id,
Finding life’s hidden meaning,
Different for each individual,
The simple truth, enlightened paths,
Illuminating the feared abyss,
Ravaged by ghosts of madness,
Inquire within, trusting yourself,
Revealing improbable answers,
Choosing purpose, as I chose,
Content beyond the echoes of,
The man who I used to be,
So, please, do remember me.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Aw, come on, don’t be sad,
Don’t you know you are loved?
Unburden regret, cast it down,
Living in the past burns,
Your future will be in flames,
Just let go, relax, hold me.

I need your touch: need!
You want to come in?
Do you? My door is open,
Live now, shed anxiety,
Uncertainty comes from dread,
Dread of what will be.

Yeah, that’s it, snuggle closer,
I have you now, you’re free,
And yet, also bound, safe,
No chains though, just love,
I ask for nothing, just you,
Smiling, happy, not sad: okay?

© Paul Chafer 2014

You were in a tail-spin, (You remember?)
Of course you do, endlessly falling,
Churning dark clouds for company,
Every silver-lining has a cloud.

So I reached right in, (you were so blind.)
Placed your trembling hand on the controls,
Although, you did not trust me, (did you?)
Not at first, although with good cause,
Because you were dizzy, disorientated.

But slowly, ever so slowly, we relaxed,
Pulled you out of the dive, up and away,
Banking, climbing, power ramping up,
Juddering through the stutter-stall,
Until we were purring, a throaty growl.

A big cat in a poorly constructed cage,
Bursting free, guided by rainbows,
Flickering smile insinuating itself upon your face,
(So lovely) on your beautiful lips.

Without really noticing, (smooth as silk)
We coasted along in open skies,
Rah, French kissing the gentle swell of the sea,
Transforming everything into a mirror,
Reflections captured in burnished bronze,
Can I release your hand now? (don’t gasp)
Yes, my love, you are flying again.

© Paul Chafer 2014

I see a volume of history upon the shelf,
Just repeating itself. Just repeating itself.

Recalling the infamous Pandemic; Spanish Flu!
Although, it never came from sunny Spain.
In 1918, a neutral country during the war,
The free Spanish reported the virus first.

It spread throughout Europe and America,
Then Asia, infecting half-a-billion people,
Killing fifty, maybe even a hundred million!
How many; nobody knows! Nobody knows.

The Pandemic has come again: it’s here!
Did we learn from history? Are we prepared?
No! No! No! Our reactions are way too slow!
Covid-19 is definitely running this final show.

Latter half of the Twentieth Century, felt soft!
We grew old, greedy, fat and complacent.
Mother nature decided, it’s time for a cull,
Earth wants her overdue rent, paid in full.

I see a volume of history upon the shelf,
Just repeating itself. Just repeating itself.

Paul M Chafer©

From dawn until dusk, you are here,
Meandering images smiling sweetly,
Your words, a thousand-fold message,
Caress me inside, soothing my soul,
Bringing perpetual joy to my mind,
For you are all, my loving constant.

My companion, thoughts of you jostle,
Real-time memories holding sway, yes,
Corralling projected musings, taming,
Horned unicorn harnessing wild stallions,
Calming dreams, wayward ripples in time,
Cosseting us with complete and utter love.

Whole, unified spiritually, emotionally,
We become unconquerable, unassailable,
Our Aztalan utopia, home to our musings,
Deep stronghold, fastened by pure love,
I kiss your humble mind, sincere heart,
Forging a blended alloy of true happiness.

If, whenever out, maybe driving about,
On encountering road-rage, never worry,
Claim that you are, Ronnie Pickering,
They should drive off, as if in a hurry.

Although, if they ask, Ronnie Pickering?
Looking bewildered, unsure who you are,
Do a convincing, Pickering impression,
An apoplectic beetroot escaping its jar.

Start ranting and raving, making threats,
No need to reveal, considered, justification,
Rage like a gargantuan, ignorant, imbecile,
Before storming off, in bitter frustration.

Remember, while out, always take care,
If encountering, squabbling or bickering,
If the people resemble blustering bullies,
One, could possibly be, Ronnie Pickering.

At least some will say: jolly good fun,
When civilisation crumbles, comes undone,
Enraged fish, a horrible toxic dish,
Who would have imagined, laughable,
That we could poison an ocean; truly!
But we will do just that; so very soon,
This ***** bites, consumers shall say,
Leaving the tills, oh, have a nice day,
This ***** bites back, nature cackles,
Unwary fools, shredding on her hackles,
And all will pay, every single one of us,
Protest all you like, march: kick up a fuss.
But you who ruined the sea, polluted the air,
Oh not me, you cry, voice filled with despair,
Yes you, ****** the land for all she’s worth,
Stinking parasites despoiling green Earth.
And when at last, we are all but done,
Through hazy smog, viewing a setting sun,
At least some will say: jolly good fun.

© Paul Chafer 2014

I hammered my self-loathing,
Gouged out its laughing eyes,
Ripped open its smirking mouth,
Then strangled it, stomped it,
Buried it, forgot it; moved on.

The poetry, though, hmm,
It helped me fight, win,
A soundboard of pain,
Reliable and true, so true,
Always remains, waiting patiently.

Keeping my attitude healthy,
Is it needed? Yes, it is,
Riding undulating emotion,
Self-loathing rises, unbidden,
Caressing fondly: a soft kiss.

I body-slam self-loathing,
Hurl it back to the pit,
Peer out of the abyss,
****** at any light, any hope,
Grasping words, fighting.

Love is always needed,
A powerful weapon, hmm,
Without it, well, zombies come,
Tearing within, mocking,
Urging the thin-red-line.

I will not yield, I scream,
I write, even weep, and more,
Knowing love will come, soon,
And will help me claim,
I hammered my self-loathing.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Serendipity.
You ******* what!
What you saying, pal?
Serendipity, oh aye, all right,
Aye, seren-******-dipity; whatever!
Tell it to the raggedy soaked-wino,
Look into his rheumy eyes, really look,
Want to kiss his toothless grin, eh? Do you?
Feel his sore-ridden tongue searching you out,
Nay, I thought not, anyway, he hears nothing,
Nothing except the rattle of change.

Tell it to the punctured ******, go on,
Cold body on a cold linoleum floor,
He can’t hear you either, maybe though,
Maybe, slipping away on the last tide of life,
Do-gooder, maybe he will hear you call,
‘Serendipity’ and wonder: what the ****?
Until blackness closes in, blanking the stars.

Tell it to the Fourth Bridge jumpers, go on,
Always falling; to them, falling forever,
In hearts and minds, the event horizon of death,
Trapped in limbo, leaving unbearable hurt behind,
Along with serendipity and bad choices.

And the young, oh they need serendipity,
Cruelty of life glittering in furtive wary eyes,
Old already, far beyond halcyon blue-skies,
Used and abused by those closest, the shame,
Erosion of trust and sincerity completed over night,
Christmas ghosts: slovenly laggards by comparison.

Resilient youth! Yep, they ******* need to be,
Grinding machine of town-life hunting them,
Scouring dark corners, gnashing jaws growling,
Crunching down darkened alleys, feeding,
Lapping up the young blood of runaways,
Slavering maw eating them alive; laughing.

With serendipity, they can lie low, maybe hide,
Dream of escape, for they all want out,
Putting misery behind them, quelling cruelty,
After all, they live in a lucky ******* town,
So escape is not impossible, no,
Unlikely, yes, poor wee *******.

Serendipity should shout a loud warning,
Run, scrawny urchins, run if you can,
Run for your lives, the rest of your lives,
Town-life’s grinding machine awaits,
Watches for you, so keep running,
Never stop, never look back,
Not ever, not ever,
Serendipity.

©Paul Chafer 2014

Snatching at the words,
Mumbling incoherently,
Such things, such imagery,
Haunting me, taunting me,
Fighting on the cusp of sleep,
Denying me semblance of reason,
For these words I want, no, need,
Their beauty, strings of literary pearls,
Flow sinuously through my mind,
Then begin to dissipate, please no,
Cunningly vanishing at equal speed,
With which I try to recall them,
Smoke thinning, drifting on the wind,
Mocking me as I rouse, knowing,
Deep inside, how good the words felt,
What they would mean, such wonder,
Now gone, but perhaps, perhaps,
They were never as good as I thought,
Maybe such things never are, maybe,
Maybe the real beauty is hidden pleasure,
A delight in the process itself, hmm,
The imagining, I - no, we, for I mean, us poets -
Love that creative part; want to hold it forever,
That heady feeling, that Promethean power,
How we cherish this treasure, and share it,
Sharing is the best, hmm, and the keeping,
Yes, never neglect the keeping, coveting,
The unmatched sense of achievement,
Something known only to poets,
Alas, those forgotten words,
Edging the cusp of sleep, perhaps,
Well, they do not travel so well, still,
We console ourselves with knowing,
Knowing they were there, truly existing,
Trying to escape on a whimsical notion,
When in reality, if we are patient,
They do come home, words to roost,
Appearing, here, there, everywhere,
In various forms, so all is not lost, still,
On the edge of dreams, we fail to avoid,
Snatching at the words.

© Paul Chafer 2014

As I enter the room,
She comes to me,
And asks, - demands –
“so, do you love me?”
I nod, smile, and reach,
My hand caressing her face.
“Hmm, you do not love me,”
She says, pushing into my palm.
“Only, know this, you are mine.
All the same.”
My fingers dance along her spine,
She arches, green eyes widening.
“Oh, yes, yes, just there,”
As I press, firmly,
Lovingly, affectionately.
“I do love you,”
I whisper,
Scratching beneath her chin.
“What’s not to love,”
She says, boxing my hand,
Before returning to her basket,
Her contended purr,
Speaking a thousand words.

Something savage roared, tearing me inside,
Clawing and biting, mocking and jeering,
Reminding me that we always forget
Far more then we can ever remember.

Life is a vicious trap, clamped so tight,
Constructed from many smaller traps,
That we unwittingly engineer everyday,
Hardly noticing the lethal snares we shape.

I did fight back, of course I did: I had too,
I am a born fighter, never one to just yield,
Alas, the reality, I was only fighting myself,
Lashing out blindly, but already defeated.

The primal savagery that lusts after life,
Yearns for love, beats strongly deep within,
Cunningly, knows me so well, so intimately,
That I am shaken to the core without mercy.

The unleashed crippling truth is excruciating,
Resistance shattered, will sapped, heart broken,
Becoming a hollowed husk, the very moment,
Something savage roared, tearing me inside.

©Paul M Chafer 2017

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

I give you songs for your heart,
Lyrics threading through your soul.
When I go to sleep, I think of you,
Knowing how, I just want you, need you,
In my dreams I want to be baptized in your love.

Even though the tears of the dragon await,
So my Muse remains in cyber space,
Forever beyond me, you won’t change me.

I ask, that you don’t hide in your shell,
And when I ask, just be a woman,
So I am not building castles in the sand,
When in our virtual world, love walked in.

And I ask, don’t leave me now, no,
Don’t fly, Blackbird, for fear of being broken.

I can never say thank you enough,
For after waiting so long, it’s true,
You have made me a better man.

With you, I could just sail away,
I could say take me I’m yours,
But I won’t, but know this,
I’ll be waiting,
Waiting:
Always.

©Paul Chafer 2014

I feel the essence of you, and I ache inside,
As you infiltrate my being to the very core,
There is no place for me, unwilling to hide,
Forgive me; I’m unable, to suffer anymore.
Our palpable charisma echoes, who we are,
Shaping us incrementally, acquiring a hold,
We cannot turn back, we’ve come too far,
Our friendship has allowed, love to unfold.
Stranded at crossroads, unable to proceed,
Am I just a dreamer, and you just a dream?
Accepting choices, until I started to bleed,
Fond memories weep, drifting downstream.
So what now, precious love, what do I do?
I’m alone, oh but I feel, the essence of you.

©Paul M Chafer 2016

Awaiting the storm
Forming on distant shores.
Preparing myself for
The oceans tidal swell.
Opening my heart
To the rawest of elements.
I ride the anticipation
Of the coming waves.
Conquering the building
Fear as the water leaps high.
A great solid wall
Unfurling its rippling energy.
Through the tube,
Board skimming, skipping.
Flirting with danger,
Risking everything,
Inside a living
Hollow cocoon of
Thundering power.
Controlled fear beats
Inside my pumping heart,
Driving my adrenaline
Through to spiritual fulfilment.
On exiting the beast,
It rolls onward to its death.
Through its existence
We both lived, sharing
A unique oneness.
Children of nature within
A union of creation, so special,
It takes the breath away.
Savouring my exhilaration,  
I see another wave being born,
And prepare to surf again.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

All moments last forever,
trapped in time, yes,
like pages on a book,
but there, all the same,
reaching out from the past,
indelible memories, forever.

There are dreams,
then there are dreams,
some dreams, like kisses,
have portent, subtle magic,
while some dreams, and kisses,
are just dreams and kisses.

Moments, like kisses,
are trapped in memories,
magical dreams, reaching,
making the day smile,
reminding those who love,
all moments last forever.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

No, please, not again,
Not the ******* Block,
Think I’m about to cry,
A grown man, weeping,
So unreal, sad, even.

An occupational hazard,
Finding the Block, lurking,
The unforgiving, ******* Block,
Visited by all worth their salt,
Dreaded by writers, loathed.

An empty well, bone dry,
The Block, mocking, malicious,
Laughing in the shadows,
Shifting within deeper shadows,
Growing, so very strong.

It cannot be mastered,
Not now, not ever,
Now you know it exists,
Grasp the pen, tap keys,
You must fight!

Ignore the jeering,
Conquer fears first;
Then, try writing, just write,
Summon courage, dry your eyes,
Then slay the ******* Block.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Lips gently brush
against each other.
Their fresh moist
softness hot, yielding.
Tongues touch, executing
deft tantalising flicks.
A sensuous tease
before delving deeper.
Searching, probing, lips
pressing, passion flaring.
Hearts melting, spirits
soaring, rushing away.
Then suddenly, it's over
More than physical contact.
A more subtle, mental kiss.
Our fingers connect
briefly on parting.
Lingering slightly, and
I speculatively wonder.
Were our minds
in perfect synchronicity?
Or is there truly,
only one mind?
Such uncertainies arise,
with mental kissing.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Reflecting upon the ambitions of my youth,
What happened to the man I never became?
My roots, once anchored firmly, no longer sit
In countryside soil, oh dear, what a shame!
For my heart, town-life has staked its claim.

Whenever viewing those years through the *****
Lenses of memory’s filmy glass, I can always see
The discarded ideals to which I never could
Aspire, my failure, such a huge relief for me,
Not having to face the music, of a rural melody.

I seemed fairly happy then, driving a tractor.
Making a living from having, a field to plough.
The simple pleasure, a reward I had forgotten,
Somehow ashamed, as if I had broken a vow.
Or maybe just guilty, because, I’m happier now.

Auden had said. “You spend twenty five years
Learning to be yourself.” Is this to fully mature?
The wisdom of age wiping my lenses clean.
Seeing an unsullied panorama afresh, is a cure,
The man I’ve become, at ease, at peace, secure.

The Old Giant is finally dead,
I heard the battle raging,
Incessant howling, shrieking, wailing,
Rending of limbs, such screeching,
Unassuaged horror filling my ears,
Please, make it stop, please.

But, it did not stop, no,
And the Old Giant fought bravely,
Before finally crashing to earth,
A seasoned campaigner, yes,
Victor of many a titanic struggle,
Before defeat reared its ugly head.

He’d stood proudly, scarred, twisted,
It took a mighty foe to defeat him,
To deal relentless heart-splitting blows,
As I observe him, a tear wells, escapes,
Splashes delicately onto his splayed trunk,
Instantly absorbed by golden-white wood.

Then, in a tangle of broken branches,
Bathed in a shaft of canopy-filtered sunlight,
I spy a slender sapling, knee high,
And I know an ancient legacy continues,
So sad, but life flourishes, even though,
The Old Giant is finally dead.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Love,
Stronger than death,
Its yearning pull,
Gripping the heart,
Binding the spirit,
The ties, so powerful,
They reach beyond life,
Spanning nether worlds,
Travelling unseen,
Crossing boundaries,
Emotional tethers,
That cannot break,
Not now, not ever,
Holding, holding, holding,
Until the course is run,
Life lived to the full,
Then reunited, ah,
Stronger than death,
Love.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

We set off nice and slow, I was nervous, uncertain.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew what I was doing,
I had ridden before, but nothing like this.

She was so beautiful, the best I’d ever had,
Trembling beneath me I knew she could move.
She responded delightfully to my delicate touch.

With accomplished skill I flicked HER gears,
Feeling her pull a little as we truly got underway.

Negotiating the first deceptive bend,
She gave a little shimmy, a sensitive wiggle,
Forcing a tightening from me, till I gathered her up.

Assuredly taking full control once more.
Hands gripping her firmly, slowly twisting the throttle.
She bucks; growls pleasurably, we are as one.
Revelling in wilful abandonment;
Gliding in unison, so enjoyable.

Cornering sweetly, high exhilaration,
missing NOT a single beat,
Accelerating at speeds-illegal,
Too soon, too soon,
Our destination arrives.

Catching my breath I tease the brakes and relax.
Tension flowing from me; while she: she purrs like a wild cat.
I know we made good time as I gently apply the clutch,
Easing her down through the gears, she gives a little SHuDDER.

I dismount, sighing, smiling, a playful slap, yes,
Acknowledging mutual appreciation,
Already anticipating another ride,
And believe me,

It was a ride.

©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

Love is truly canny,
Rages like a storm,
Quiet as a millpond.
(On a still day, for sure)
Twisting and turning,
Tugging us here and there,
Turning us inside out,
Laying us low, flying high,
Departing, returning,
Cursing and praising.
The perfect love, hah!
Matter of perspective,
Where we are in life.
Love is linked with time,
Time is a fickle *****,
Turning on us unexpectedly,
Just as we have it all wired,
Running out on us,
Leaving in the blink of an eye.
(Why bother? Hmm, anyone?)
Well, we choose to bother,
Just because love is good,
For some it is all there is,
Why else are we here?
If you have love, so lucky,
Cherish, cuddle, hold,
Tomorrow is another day.

©Paul M Chafer 2015

Oh, they don’t know they’re born today,
What do they know of surviving a war?
Suffering blackouts, hardship of rationing,
With never a thought of ‘asking for more’.

They act so tough, never knowing real fear,
Never experiencing terror and dread,
They’d be dancing to a different tune,
If the Luftwaffe still flew overhead.

I tell you, kids of today; know now’t,
Claiming life’s hard: they’re having a laugh,
Let em’ clean grime off a twelve hour shift,
With carbolic soap in an old tin bath?

Talk of going without, they get too much!
We only had skipping ropes, whistles, bells,
Maybe an orange and apple at Christmas,
Along with monkey nuts still in their shells.

If we were lucky, we got a shiny penny,
Truth be told, there was never any shame,
Today they expect brand new bikes,
Plus the latest craze of a video game.

A sign of the times, life always changes,
Rose-tinted memories; forever make hay,
I’ve said it before; I know I’ll say it again,
Oh, they don’t know they’re born today.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Tonight, thinking on you,
My mind is ablaze, fully illuminated,
Akin to a fabled city swinging in festival,
You light me up inside, and I glow brightly,
Bathed within the warmth of your sweet love.

Tonight, thinking on you,
My heart is dancing the greatest dance,
Revelling, an unbridled pleasurable release,
Passionate love flowing freely in our kisses,
Smooching, swaying, in each other's embrace.

Tonight, thinking on you,
Our spirits are riding upon crazy horses,
Galloping over moonlit plains, racing the stars,
Our nakedness glistening with heady scents,
Mind, hearts and spirits, subtly joined as one.

Tonight, thinking on you.

Graveyards bother me,
All those lives, silenced,
All that time, the memories,
(We were loved too once, you know,
we enjoyed life, see you soon!)
This aspect runs cold in my blood,
I can almost hear them chuckling,
He knows, Paul knows, (hello!)
Sure, their voices are in my head,
Their whispers, ancient stirrings,
Laughter from ages gone, dead,
Yet they call to me, taunt me,
Dead flesh and bones haunt me.
A full life, reduced to a dash.
I know I'm not ready, not yet,
Too much to do, to write, to share,
I shudder, walk away, dry mouthed,
No life without death, none,
Graveyards bother me.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Walking in our garden,
sun sailing across the sky,
I saw a tiny winged-girl,
from the corner of my eye.

She flew down off the wall,
but did not try to hide.
“Hello there,” I said to her.
“Good morning,” she replied.

“Do children visit here,
I so love to see them play?”
“Yes they do,” I told her, as
she danced and hopped away.

“Then I will return,” she sang,
her tiny voice sweetly shrill.
Then flew into our willow tree,
I think she lives there still.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Through time,
Stars continue to illuminate,
Billions of miles,
Long, long after death:
R.I.P Nelson Mandela.

I remember now,
Trying not to fall in love,
Fighting the emotional pull.
Just one of the best feelings ever,
It teases, taunts, torments, and plays,
With alluring, delightful sweetness.
Especially during the early hours,
Though not in a bad way, never that,
But in a self-serving pleasing way.
Having one latch onto certain tunes,
Replay those pleasurable moments,
Unfasten the catch releasing desire,
Indulging in salacious imagery,
Until eventually, we are grounded,
Or, we manage to escape, floating free.
Either way, the secret inner-resistance,
Is lovely to behold, making one smile,
Laugh unexpectedly, or consider deeply,
All within the space of a few heartbeats.
One becomes wholly consumed, yes,
Heart all~a~flutter, nerves jangling.
The telephone rings, bated breath,
Dry-mouth, such clammy hands,
A faint cracked whisper, ‘Hello?’
Only to be, just someone else.
The anticipation now running riot,
Unknowns spinning beyond control,
Imagination hot and fevered,
Created scenarios rise and fall,
Rise again, twist into, ‘what if?’
Before dissipating into hazy dreams.
And we know, yes, deep inside,
Once beyond the very early stages,
The truth is clear, should have seen,
Resistance is, quite useless, when,
Trying not to fall in love,
I remember now.

Umbrellas, umbrellas, holding off the rain.
Sheltering all from the sky’s falling tears.
A common bareheaded woman with a basket,
Becomes the object of one man's inquiring gaze.
What protects her from his illicit intentions?
His wealth from exploiting her poverty?
She possesses no umbrella against the rain.
No shield against his shower of false affections.
And oblivious; a little girl with toy hoop looks on.
A questioning sadness in her dark, innocent, eyes.
Unconcerned curiosity, observing the world’s corruption.
And yet, and yet: unaware of her own, future vulnerability.

© Paul Chafer 2014

By walking between certain trees,
Sometimes, one has an odd feeling,
An unusual tingling sensation,
Not scary, but mostly appealing.
Katalyn passed between two elms,
And entered into ancient realms.

Excitement prickled Katalyn’s skin,
Trees here were wide and tall,
Then from a sun-splashed clearing,
There came a strange animal call.
Creeping closely; peering round a tree,
Katalyn saw unicorns, roaming free.

Approaching slowly, heart beating fast,
Katalyn could not help but smile,
As the unicorns gathered round,
What grace, such poise, cool style.
Not thinking, Katalyn touched a wing,
There came a whoosh . . . so dizzying.

Without knowing, how or why,
Katalyn soared above the trees,
Holding a slender unicorn neck,
Laughter escaping on the breeze.
They dropped into a sudden glide,
With a thrilling rush: what a ride!

They winged across grassy plains,
Between mountains capped with snow,
Katalyn neither knew nor recognised,
The wild land, passing by, below.
Another world; another dimension,
Kept secret by; magical intention.

Then Katalyn was suddenly walking,
Back where the adventure began,
Passing between two old elms,
Returned to the world of man.
Now feeling as happy, as you please,
Knowing unicorns lived, beyond the trees.

© Paul M Chafer 2014

You know I’ll always want you,
We both know, I will never have you,
The night draws in, all is growing dark,
Dusk closing down the spring day,
Chasing away May’s subtle warmth.

I chase your image through my mind,
Laughter trills over your shoulder,
Your smile lights me up inside,
I reach, always reaching, always,
Until we connect, mind to mind,
Thoughts spiralling upward, rising,
Twisting as we gaze into each other,
Drinking the soul, feasting on flesh,
Tasting fresh, so vibrant, so rich,
Akin to vampires quenching lust.

We need love, a rare creature,
Elusive cat dancing within shadows,
How I want to know you,
Yes, really know you, love you,
Hold you, oh, so, so, tight.

Do you lie awake at night, thinking on me?
Do you hold yourself extra tight: do you?

So, let me know you, let me near you,
You know I want to feel you, touch you,
The night draws in, all is growing dark,
We both know I will never have you,
You know, I’ll always want you.

©Paul Chafer 2014

I fear the warrior has fallen asleep,
Lulled into chains in the Demon’s keep.
Forgotten prisoner of noble mind,
Honour and justice abused and blind.
And the Race continues in a headlong rush,
Repeated warnings of disaster, all hush, hush.
Wanton greed leaving resources depleted,
Bold voices of reason ignored and defeated.
The world’s inhabitants playthings of destruction,
Mankind’s demise profitably under construction.
What then; the high price of material wealth,
Wallowing deep in the red with nature herself.
The unforgiving Earth spins our lives into death,
Climatic chaos drawing our last dying breath.
Eons of achievements now just whimsical schemes,
As our entire existence floats away with our dreams.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

We can begin with you,
And ask, is it too much to hope?
Why, when we yearn for peace,
Can we not have a Kingdom Of Mankind?
Must the squabbles, some, millennia old,
Permanently persist, from century to century?
Will the warmongers never tire?
Never cease their enduring need to ****?
Is an ideal, a belief, or a cause,
Worth the taking of life: any life?
Must men, women, and even children,
Suffer for a difference of opinion?
The world has to change; must change!
Sense and sensibility, must prevail!
Please, reach out, make a difference,
We can begin with you.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Love addicts,
High from a single touch,
Trembling from a single kiss,
Sighing for what might be
Could be, and should be,
Hooked into our own groove,
For I am your drug,
And you, sweet woman,
You are totally mine,
As we lust for a fix,
Lost within a vertiginous miasma,
Reeling from a passion that sates,
So blissfully satisfying, and yet,
Also leaves us wanting more,
So much more that we ache,
Cast adrift upon an ocean,
One previously unknown,
The swells heaving,
The currents swirling,
Tides of wanton desire,
Surf crashing over us poor,
Love addicts.

©Paul M Chafer 2017

An unexpected caller came
in the middle of the night.
Had me traipsing downstairs,
guided by candlelight.
(I’d suffered a power cut
sometime earlier in the day,
A temporary arrangement
until I arranged to pay.)
“Who is it?” I calmly asked,
trembling behind the door,
Cold striking up my legs
from the clay-tiled floor.
“Who is it?” I asked again
with cautious trepidation,
Fighting back the fear of
an unwanted confrontation.
No one answered back,
not one single, solitary, peep,
from the unexpected caller
who’d ruined my beauty sleep.
The letterbox then rattled again
giving me something of a start!
Jumping flame-lit shadows
jumping in my fluttering heart.
The identity of the caller rolled
around my searching brain.
The ghostly rattling letterbox
then startled me again!
Carefully, I opened the door
with safety chain in place.
Prepared to slam it shut again
you know, just in case.
What greeted me was not
something that needed sorting.
Just my amorous cat, returning
from a nights, hectic courting.
(Lucky thing.)

©Paul M Chafer 2015

Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow,
Whinnying, frolicking, as happy as can be,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

Such stunning beauty, makes my heart glow,
Mythical creatures, running wild and free,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow.

They are seeds of dreams, we lovingly sow,
Rearing in acknowledgement, just for me,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

They begin racing clouds, perhaps for show,
Maybe I am a dream, one only they can see,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow.

Amongst trillions of stars, one must know,
Unicorns live and play, with unbridled glee,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

Through layers of cloud, drifting so slow,
To unlock sheer bliss, I now possess the key,
Watching wild unicorns, dance in the snow,
As I hover high above, observing all below.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

Antonia is such a good swimmer,
She often swims in the sea,
Where she met a friendly dolphin,
Who she invited back for tea.

There were plates of jam sandwiches,
Ice-cream, with jelly in a fancy dish,
Vanilla slices and chocolate cake,
Oh, and of course, lots of fish.

Then the dolphin shared a story,
Of a far off-distant land,
Even though his voice was very squeaky,
Antonia could easily understand.

The story told of mermaids,
Magic songs upon their lips,
Their singing enticing sailors,
From the rigging and decks of ships.

Though, the sailors were not harmed,
Only enchanted in a drowsy sleep,
Dreaming in the mermaid kingdom,
Beneath the ocean cool and deep.

The mermaids made a prophecy,
Of the sailors promised release,
When mankind stopped all wars,
And had learned to live in peace.

Antonia thought, ‘how very wise’,
Watching waves upon the sea,
From the beach, she waved goodbye,
To the dolphin who came for tea.

Walking through woodland,
Sunlight dancing through branches,
I find myself beside a stream,
My mind wandering, wondering,
Exploring love on the edge of time.

My thoughts tumble over rocks,
Caught in water’s swirl and eddy,
A leaf that's fallen free, floating by,
Carried by flowing water, turning,
Searching out my broken dream.

I've walked this path for years,
Hearing the wind calling my name,
Rustling in the sad weeping trees,
Tears mingle with the stream, a leaf,
Part of me, writhes in a broken dream.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Yep, that’s me,
Totally and absolutely ******!
(Are totally and absolutely the same?)
Sure they are, proves my point!
Victim of my own frustration,
I put down the bottle,
******, but not entirely stupid.
Well, ‘not entirely’ says a lot.
Am I alone in this?
Nah, many often realise,
They are utterly *******,
But they keep on,
Bending over in life,
Taking it up the ****,
Screaming in pain,
Wailing at the world.
Untill they see, notice,
Begin to understand,
They may be crushed,
Battered down, diminished,
Embattled by little things,
But it could be worse.
Much, much worse, indeed,
They shed the depression,
Wipe away the tears,
Nurture their damaged soul,
Learn, progress, live,
Yep, that’s me.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Love takes many forms,
Often takes us by surprise,
Are we defenceless against this emotion?
For that is all it is, in its entirety,
Chemical impulses sloshing through grey matter,
Forget the heart, the blood pump,
This is only for the ache, the feeling of yearning,
The brain is where it counts, headology.
We are wholly consumed, body, mind, soul,
Lack of appetite, yet, we are devoured inside out,
Gasping on awakening, if lucky enough to sleep,
Denying the truth of it, accepting what cannot be,
We dither, speculate, play scenarios,
Lament, rejoice, laugh, cry, lament again,
Every waking moment inhabited by our affection,
And yet, these feelings that hold us prisoner,
Trap us inside our own souls,
Can vanish faster than a tropical storm,
With no consideration for the wreckage remaining,
No thought for those hurt,
Love has moved on,
Fickle creature, and yet,
We adore its presence,
Hate its leaving,
And like a retreating tide,
Await its return with avid pleasure,
For nothing, nothing,
Can ever compare.

©Paul Chafer 2014

You,
Yes you,
I’m talking to you,
You know I want you,
No, not want, but really need,
Need to feel skin beneath my lips,
Smell your hair while kissing your neck,
My teeth teasing on your shoulder, tasting,
My hands on your waist, caressing, holding,
Pulling you close, ah, swaying, rocking gently
Deep breaths, dizziness, aching, till we kiss,
What then, you might ask, what indeed,
Will senses slip away, hmm, perhaps,
Reason becoming untethered, yes,
Breaking from its moorings, yes,
An explosion of delight, hot,
Raw passion, dark desire,
Riot of ****** discovery,
Hands touching, feeling,
Sensual lips exploring,
Drinking in pleasure,
Bodies now writhing,
Inhibitions crumbling,
Heat coursing, racing,
Until we are lost, yes,
Two becoming one,
Mind, body soul,
Falling, falling, ah,
Rising, drifting, hmm,
Sighing, escaping, sated,
More, needing more,
I’m talking to you,
Yes you,
You.

© Paul Chafer 2014

You cried, when I read you poetry,
Soft sounds of weeping down the telephone,
It was not sad though, no, never that,
A kind of, unexpected happiness had blossomed,
Filling your mind with fragrant words, this is why,
You cried, when I read you poetry.

©Paul M Chafer 2015