In her sea of unrequited love I am flotsam—
not even wreckage with a story,
just something left behind,
adrift.

She is the water that carries me,
cool and untouchable,
vast and shining,
indifferent to the fragments she holds.

I do not sink—
that would be release.
I float,
caught in eddies of hope,
drawn near by a glance,
pushed away by silence.

There is no harbour,
no shore with arms outstretched.
Only the endless drift
beneath skies that never speak,
toward nothing,
from everything I once believed.

I am the forgotten,
the unchosen,
the still-loyal shard of something
she never meant to keep—
But can’t quite let go

The sky is the colour of well-worn bedsheets,
greyed and softened by countless washes,
a damp washing line kind of grey,
the kind that clings to the air
before a drizzle starts,
or after it ends,
and the world is still dripping.

Not the bright, hopeful white
of freshly laundered linen,
snapping in a summer breeze.
No, this is the grey of a Monday morning,
of a forgotten promise,
of a lukewarm cup of tea.
It's the grey that seeps into your bones,

It settles in your shoulders.
makes you want to pull the covers
back over your head
and pretend the day
hasn't quite begun.
But even this grey,
this damp, heavy grey,
has its own kind of beauty.

A quiet strength.
a muted dignity.
It's the colour of waiting,
of slow, steady growth,
of the earth breathing
beneath a blanket of clouds.

My heart floats in the hollow between beats,
a weightless thing, neither here nor gone,
left in the purgatory of almosts and maybes.

Time drips slow, like sap from a wounded tree,
every second stretched thin,
every breath a whisper of what could be.

Hope dangles, fragile and frayed,
a spider’s thread trembling in the wind,
unsure if it will hold or snap
under the weight of a longing unspoken.

I do not bleed, I do not weep—
I simply linger,
caught in this timeless pause,
my heart in suspended animation,
waiting for the whisper of her touch,
the warmth of her voice,
to pull me back to life.

Her sneers cut like invisible razors,
slivers of disdain slicing through the air,
the silence swelling with unspoken judgments.

Each twist of her lip is a verdict,
a dismissal of the things I am,
a shadow cast over the fragile corners
where I hold my own worth.

Her eyes, sharp as broken glass,
reflect nothing of me,
only the cold echo of her discontent,
a tide that pulls my spirit under.

I feel it in my chest—
a tightness,
as though the air around me
is hers to withhold,
and I am left gasping
in the storm of her unkindness.

Yet still, I stand,
weakened but unbowed,
seeking in the ruins of her scorn
some thread of strength
that does not rely on her mercy.

My days of laughter have slipped away, like sunlight caught in a wave, bright for a moment then lost to the deep.

Once, joy was found  in every corner—a child’s secret smile, the pulse of music in crowded rooms, the thrill of chasing a breeze through open windows.
Holidays,trips to the seaside long since past.

Now, the echoes are faint, hollow notes where melodies once sang. I walk through the same streets, the same rooms, but the colours have dimmed, the voices have softened.

The fun, the careless abandon, the rush of forgetting the weight of the world—they have packed up quietly, leaving only the stillness, the memories, and longing.

Now I wait in this quiet longing,wondering if the light might return, or if I must learn to dance with the shadows of memory instead.

Wind, you who dance through the world with no barriers, who knows the secrets of every leaf and every whispered breath—hear me now.

As you brush against my skin, gentle and unseen, I ask you to carry my love, delicate as a feather, to the one who holds my heart in secret.

Let my kisses be your passengers, riding on your back like tiny whispers of the soul, traveling through the unseen paths between us.

Move with the grace of a lover’s touch, through fields of wildflowers and over rivers that shimmer like dreams. Slip through the night’s velvet cloak, and find the one who is mine in thought but far in presence

Surround her with the warmth of my longing, the softness of my affection, until they feel the invisible embrace of my heart.

Tell her nothing, wind, for this love is ours to hold close and quiet. Simply let my kisses fall like petals at her feet, like stars at her window, until she is surrounded by all that I am and all that I give.

The priest will never marry us
and my mom will never know you
but I can kiss you over a mug of  tea and dance with you under the stars and if that isn't marriage I'm not sure what God is looking for...

In the quiet shadows of shared glances and unspoken words, our emotional affair unfolds like verses woven into the fabric of clandestine emotions.

A dance of feelings painted in hues of secrecy, where the lines blurred between what was said and what lingered in the unsaid.

Each stolen moment a stanza etched in the margins of our lives, a prose poem of longing and connection, composed in the delicate syntax of stolen time.

In the quiet chambers of my soul, a fervent flame dances, fueled by the whispered winds of her name.

Each heartbeat echoes the symphony of my longing, an inferno ignited by the tender spark of her presence.

Embers of passion glow in the verses of my soul's prose,
a timeless poem etched in the language of devotion,
burning brightly with the intensity of a thousand suns.

She holds my heart securely within her grasp
Thus far she has no knowledge of her potency.
For her to have awareness of her cradling
My ardour, my affections,
May risk an arrest of  my hearts loving palpitations
For she may leave,
And then my hearts light would be extinguished.

In the gentle embrace of a sun-kissed evening, Her presence becomes the very essence of enchantment. Her laughter, like a melody in the wind, dances with the graceful cadence of a thousand twinkling stars. Her eyes, two deep pools of blue, hold secrets only whispered to the moon, leave me lost in their captivating allure.

Every step she takes leaves an imprint on my heart, a path of warmth and tenderness. In her touch, I find solace, a connection that transcended the realms of ordinary existence. Time seems to slow in her company, as if the universe conspires to savor every stolen moment.

Her spirit, a delicate blend of strength and vulnerability, radiates a magnetic charm that draws me closer, like a moth to the flickering flame. The way she cares for others, with genuine kindness and empathy, paints her as an angel among mortals, a beacon of compassion.

Each gesture, each word she speaks, paints vivid portraits of affection on the canvas of my soul. And in the quiet corners of my mind, I dream of moments yet to come, where love would bloom like a garden of roses, and our hearts would entwine like vines in an eternal embrace.
I speak ofAnn, a name whispered in the silence of my thoughts, it carries the promise of a love story destined to be etched in the stars, forever bound in the timeless tale of two souls entwined in love's sweet embrace.

Amidst the ache of unrequited love, my heart still finds solace in the beauty of our connection, even if it remains one-sided. I'll cherish the moments we shared, even if they were fleeting, for they brought warmth to my soul and left an indelible mark on my heart.

Its the way she looks into my eyes....
Standing there she talks to the three of us staring into my eyes...
Through me, into my soul,
Radiation, that burns the chambers of my aching heart...
Burning away any doubts I had of her feelings & sending me once again tumbling into an oblivion of passion.
And then she’s gone!
Her trap has sprung!
Once more she has me trapped in her web of longing...
Woven and
Hooked on loves longing.