My response to you has always been focused.

This has gladly not been over looked by you.

I have become thoughtlessly biddable and amenable for you, especially in the morning light.

I am consenting, compelled yet not obliged ..........



You have discovered I am nothing but a girl from a circus.

I never tried to hide it. You weren't looking before.

Although I am a fan of amusements, fetes and even frolics, I do refrain from favoring all tricks.

My indulgence in foolery is a sport I plan to employ for a while yet.

Do I care for you to join me and see if I can defy your desire for extracurricular activities, as well as being your carer?

Is this a task a clown would pretend was a harmless challenge.

Perhaps not, perhaps so.



My roots are raw and loyal to the art of play.

I need you to know this and hold it.

A Spanish fly will not be able to satisfy my ears alone?

Sincerity can be a sharp business sometimes.



Obedience to attachment brings around a credulous familiarity thus a dependency

It could easily keep me awake to stare at many moons

It hasn't.



You have seen me stumble and look at you gingerly more than once now

You are not even delicate but you can be shrewd even when you struggle with expectation.



There is a soberness about your beauty I find pleasingly magnetic.

When you leave me alone without your mighty graze

I without question appreciate and yearn for your persuasions and rough tenderness.

Your actions maybe more savory in the afternoons

compared with your visits to my buoyant dreams but you do kindly hold open doors.

When are you going to discern what you are made of young Iago?
I'm waiting. I'm waiting for you to espy the fact your nature takes far more than you are ever willing to give.

You have a gluttonous stomach for acclaim and it is this that will govern how you negotiate your efforts of any friendship. It is this that will decipher if you will stay loyal to your promises, nothing else.

Have you not noticed that you have never had to apologise properly for anything?
You have grown an unhealthy amount of entitlement, it holds you in an odious position right at the centre of your cosmos.
I guess you find it safe there. I feel strongly there is more for you.
You will of course be honored in your insipid society.

How do I unfurl a truth with the lights out?
You confessed the bean spillage
This tale is arduous when you are as blind as a bat.

It maybe toilsome but I know it is crucial,
for your maladroit ways have brought me here.
I feel like a duck egg because you have been a *******

Your declaring a newborn heart in past tense
This doesn't cure this quandary of trust
I don't want to adopt eagle eyes!!
I am not a lover of Pandora's box nor any hornets nest

You have taken those apparent steps you need
to be more conspicuous it seems

you will not rest your tired feet for long
but place them carefully next to your 'own kind' on the way
with delibrate circumspect and a considered proximity

you will be a clown, a horse and a child while you sculpt your climb

I can only postulate you always belonged over there in a half baked circle with the well heeled .

I suppose your not the only one who longs to be a parading plutocrat

why you want a stamp of approval from the paradise of fools I will never really know

I guess we all like a nod

She knows she appears out to lunch

However, she still chooses to speak with her tongue piled up with turkey.

To speak with any other sort of tongue would not be good practise


She enjoys gathering wool indoors enough to have found out there is something behind the fibre she yarns  that enables her to succumb to the counting of sheep after dark.

Her lamb heart was born in pink salt lakes that have dyed the very fabric of the rat race she seems to exist with.

Others find it hard to see the worth in waiting for the cows to come home

She does not

Nor does she hide her interest in a mid day meal.

She will always decline an offer of dessert,

Even when asked with a pleasant smile.

She’s firm about not wanting any unfamiliar tastes in her mouth.



She mostly chews the chud of what a lot of locals have been known to call Greek,

they stumble when having to devour the bitter, nutritious or not, it remains an unfavoured diet.



Her time is mostly spent in what gives the impression of being nothing more than a brown study. This is where she takes delight in brushing her fingers across some old chestnuts and a small tale about a fish that sits neatly under the desk. But more than this, her heart gets to rest upon the sight of her well made peacock

He rarely fans his heavy wings, his poise alone holds ample power, it convinces her of her own shyness.



I can only twig it’s her lily like liver  that makes her feel

She should not pay any attention to the complimentary piece of cake that sits right next to her, silently

To my dismay my palate has acquired a taste for those who seem to have the heart of a lion. I detect my tenacious affections towards you early. This is daunting for us both. We do not share the same list of apprehensions. I suppose it is your fortitude and influence that sustains my interest so.

I know the heart of a lion is a delicacy that i can not stomach I must have a courageous allure to feel starved. I observe without scrutiny while i wait in line for you.

It wont be long until I will find myself effortlessly making an apology on your behalf.

Your precarious, impregnable ways will be exacerbating. My harmless devotion will alarm you, in turn you will deny my intentions.



I will try and swallow your heart whole in an attempt to feel you. I will expect nothing less than to be left praying to the porcelain god. I would have forgotten about your parsimonious generosity. Your charm is passionate but I will still call you up on your weaknesses in the mighty shape of a lioness. You will feel wounded and indulge in the pleasures of your mothers nectar to soothe your uneasiness . You do what you have to do, do it, do it.

I'm not going to pretend to myself i do not feel unsettled in this space of tender silence.

I have learned to somehow forge in myself an arbitrary understanding that I am part of a choice and I have chosen it. I do not object or struggle with knowing I am both everything and nothing. I speak in whispers and conveniently sit at a distance but my curiosity is certain.
I am not subtle.
Of course I have pondered if whether I feel like this is because I am not yet ready to feel the fruits of existence. It seems to have come into sight that I have lost the ability to prepare myself but how when I believe in the notion there are no such thing as surprises.
I still look back on my shadows of arrival and departure and challenge them like any human should.
I am guilty of closing my eyes on many wonders. I instead find my head thinking thoughts mostly full of peculiar shades of grey. Out of fear of being moonstruck I inhabit a duty to be submissive towards the semblance of imperfections that I am.

I can only assimilate my comfortless solitude in small pieces.

Give me sugar.
Give me sugar mummy to sweeten the sting.
The contours of life are spoiling my mien.
Appease me, appease me like a child.
Please lull me into a sense of security.
I do not mind if it is dishonest.
I do not.

I want you to know it was the opposite of breathing to have you inside of me. I would only gasp for air in desperate hope to reach for pleasure to exist within me. Pain would enter my parted mouth like particles of dust dancing in a shaft of deceitful light.I see a glow in yours eyesI secretly try to meet your gaze as I am trying to see where I am going. All I want is for you to offer to hold my hand but you never did see that. I remain patient and silent.I feel a golden penny drop into my experience as it has done many times before. I reach out to catch it. I want to give it to my heart as I am certain it belongs to her. It is clear to me this is the gift of truth I need.The potential promise of this ignites a summers day somewhere lower than my stomach. I wonder of the possibility of this remaining hidden?I now watch the response to my wish for pleasure manifest. I have seen this before.How could I forget this? I ask my self sternly. I breath in contemplating if there is anyway i can prepare for whats been hiding inside of me. I have a tingling familiarity enter me faster than my mind could ever answer. Its heavy. I panic.� I try to some how become tough while I hurt. I watch the coin slowly turning into a dark copper. Embracing this reality thuds inside of me as though the coin it self had been dropped into my heart from a shadowy sky. It feels serious and experienced.It hurts.

I paved good intentions amongst the dirt on the top of the stairs

I think,

I think a lot.

Wonders run, bells ring

Tick tock, tick tock

The light shone bright on us.

Did we both turn it on?

I guess we both looked different.

I was your dinner,
I lay limp.

I was not invited



You say all the right things.

I knew my place.  You closed your door.

I am a chicken with a yellow heart





But oh how we laughed GREEN earth woman.

I am betwixt and between when you leave me alone in this old shade of yours
All sentiments feel so much quieter whilst on an unspoken voyage.
I have one oar.

I am afraid I must need well formed wings if I am to settle down to such a desire.
To take such a narrow stream against a night sky
leaves me searching inside for any phantom meadow

I push me back through fear I lack the precision

yes I have second guessed my onions
forgive my scrambling please
I am in a pickle trying to master the rule of thumb with a small heart and a rusty light

Am I in fine feather to be both weightless and remain steady?

I promise to hope violently. I do yearn to discover a difference.
I have galloped many moons without any horse.
I have never been carried before.

I am more than fond when you pick me up.
I hardly think of the ground when you do.


I have sewn in the feeling of difficulty I think from some knots I found

But I do believe in our morning light
so lets hold hands with all good intentions and purposes
stand on stones
and travel the fate that has been given to us Venus

please fly a kite with me

I see you in slow motion. I can see spring light breaking through the ***** windows straight on to your brooding face. Your concerned eyes are wide and have never looked so beautiful. They remind me of those emeralds you found so long ago. You gracefully fall down that old stair case. Your tiny frame starts to tumble as though you were a part of a dance. The smell of unpolished wood is pungent. I see you recognise your last moment. We both knew it was going to be like this.
He is not in the frame.

You walk in to my dreams as though I never ever lost you.
All your faults and doubts have left us and i feel ineffable to be embraced by your presence.
You do not touch me. You wouldn't.
You know well you have touched me enough.
My heart sacredly reads the language of despair you flash me with a subtle look.
Ive always known your scared. You know this too that is why you are here.
My love is strong for you.
You see the gift of tragedy in my eyes you left with me.
The neglection was not apart of your plan.
The recognition of this hurts you in your gut. I try to mask the truth. I am confident i can achieve this. I want to protect you.
You feel wrath towards experience and dimensions but they are you.
Your inability to carry out your intentions has imploded and holds you to me.
It was always pain that bound us Barbara, wasn't it.
I drop the maternal cloth I made in your absence.
All wounds are exposed. Your stare is strong.
You look at your work at a distance. How else?
I feel your nervous but I know your just as brave.
Your taking it in slowly.
I know you are getting closer to yourself now like you said last time.
I only wish light for you.
I promise.

I painted my face like a clown,

I got on my bike to skim some rocks by the loch.

It was an ungodly hour.



I waited for dusk in the wings to show me the pins,

I have some threads to maybe sew all our souls together



You opened the gate and the light flowed in.

My heart and bones lay still and somber

You threw me a rope. I recoiled inside.

We both knew it was a trick I could not master.



I searched for a gift to offer

I found a large bell

I longed to ring it for you forever.



Bridges were crossed and circles were drawn

I pretended I could not remember.

Last nights phrases,

The points were impressive,

They stuck out like sore thumbs,

It helped push up a lot of my daises.





Large was the pawn I held,

It fell and broke into pieces.

I picked every part up

When it was fixed,

It was half missing!



I asked you for an hour, you gave me a quarter,

Full of your patter.

It did not matter.

I do love your chatter.



Searching for the inner matter,

I thought of your gift of never,

I certainly no longer felt clever.

However, I endevour to be your

Friend forever



We loved all weather

When we were together



Have you forgotten?

You can be really rotten

You are my apple and I have a keen eye

on the top of this castle

where I can see all the kites fly

we climbed this stone with nothing but some

balloons and our fingers

now we eat fruit pies

as though we might never need to do the dishes.

Words are hardly spoken but I have started to draw

you pictures with blonde sands and blue skies

and few little fishes



I can hear you dream even if I am in the kitchen

I do up your buttons because you give me kisses

He paints his world with soft big strokes of creative love without any idea that I watch in awe like a child. I sit amazed as his steady heart creates an inspiring canvas of experience.
My eyes and smile grow big as I feel to purr in his soft presence.
As I thumble through the memories I have collected, a rush of magic pushes my heart heavy into a sweet ache.
He holds rich joy in an inside pocket of his heart next to small seeds of anticipation but smiles with the dream life has given him.
He warms my stomach and gently melts me away in to me.