That one petal fortitude
blasts through with try;
the grey sea moment
now full of sky.

Sitting in the field of us
I forget what the concept of unfurrowed will allow;
as it's just me and youy
in the now now now.

It seems these days, in this now,
the bright side isn't a unfathomable place, it's just right there, close enough not to reach for,
more settled,
gently,
part of that lack of grasp is because of you;
you create a happy easily,
with all you are
and all you be.

I remember us sat looking at Manga cartoons like it was yesterday. But now?
She's gone away.
And I'm just a ghost
in a shell.

When I watch Akira I still hear her.

And,

the fading sound,

of
our era.

I might not see you tonight,
things can come up
and if they do, that’s fine
there are other sweet ways for me to spend my time;
I could read a book and then watch television,
catch up on my shows with concise precision,
make a lavish meal and then chow down at leisure,
put some music on and dance with pleasure,
have a long shower and then go for a walk,
meet friends and hear them talk;
these are just a few of the other things I could do tonight,
but if I see you?
Oh what a delight!

In the house
where fought was known as nothing
i'll gallop up the stairs with a bounding born
of what
you gave
to me;
super strides
and
a
chance
to see.

I miss you,
you don't
exist,
anymore:
street signs disappear,
the road smooth,
and
bump less,
and then nothing.

Leaves stay on trees
throughout every season,
and forms
and rules
meld
into
one crying pattern
of loss:
please come back,
I miss you.

A roar of suggestion
now as faint
as ancient pillars
holding up air,
majesty diminished
by time
but still rooted
in a ground that sparkled
with the start of bloom;
a run to fantastic
that never came soon.

I feel
I want to show you
my going home face,
my face would look like home
if, my home was your face;
or if your face feels home
on my face.

Although your departure was imminent
it still smashed
more than the bottle
of bon voyage,
fragility sank in too;
the days
and nights
without you.

The clock always
moves slower
when you arrival is nigh,
it's as if time conspires
to delay our high;
but for the dwell on your appear there isn't room:
you'll be here instantly,
sometime,
soon.

You can pop in a lot
of months,
before
you're here
or after
you've gone,
like a sunny sky day in April
or
a leaf full floor autumn one,
but when you are wide and bright,
on the cusp of schools breaking up
and July imminent,
your shine
is not
a hint or a trace;
it's all of your blue
right up to space.

There is no thing
to be said
between us.
We could say i love you
but
i love you is known,
in binded tome.
Abstract metaphors seek
a form of us,
but it wasn't us,
i love you,
and us

Itchy
but this won’t always happen,
it’s just your time right now,
in a few months you’ll be gone,
no tiny fangs in the cold,
small gnashing lost to season;
as it is you bite
in summer’s sunlight.

Don't let
season skipping signs that say
it's autumn
deter your warm from being here,
you always very welcome
what's left
of the summer
of this year.

Not known,
you will go;
born with thought
and fury of last;
past.

There's something about you
that is mega lovely,
and,
super splendid cuddly;
many many adjectives
they do
in my head
land,
when we walk
hand
in hand.

I want your fright things to be as short as the day of winter solstice,
I want to find you
in mist,
and kiss,
so you know you're missed.

The essences of amazing
are etched on your face
before beautifying
but please,
if you want,
make up away
until lips touched
with colourful sticks shine
a allure with less
and more.

You:
with every movement
the world you're mending;
as confident as a fairytale
with a happy ending.

If ever there is a time you think you're not brilliant
think on
for a while;
everybody loves you
and
your smile.

Some emotions
I try
to have no time for;
jealousy just a useless worry,
run away from me with anger;
self pity in the dustbin
with regret
and has been:
but the looking forward to seeing you is naturally undimmed;
all your you and everything, your wow,
clear
in the now.

Your scintillating self
appears true
to me now;
I tilt my head and you're there
being brilliant,
with a ease
all your own.

With you
silly fog
is easy to move through,
you clear what's missed;
my call to arms,
you call my arms
and put me together,
in any storm
in any weather.

As you walk over
what you have done
and where you have been
presents
itself,
in instant glory.
Oh all the places you have roamed,
all the houses you've made your home;
good old Twist
may we always greet,
every time
I see this street.

The word on the street is
you're gone,
as seen morning breath will attest.
But in these columns of sunshine
this summer here appears,
and butterfly wings
still have time
to do their things.

For a time you made me sparkle,
i'm the star on top,
no needles to think of.
Soon we will pack up
and drop off.
When we were we went
everywhere
without care.
Now unfair,
no lights
anywhere.

Everytime
I walk past the window
where you were
I begin to wave,
but as I start the hello motion I remember
you're not there anymore,
just a empty seat
behind a full green door.
Oh Roy.
But at least there are still sinews
that move
in anticipation of you,
and muscles connected to bone
acknowledge
the space you left.
Now everytime I walk past your window and raise a hi
it's mixed with the love
of goodbye.

You are passing, this is it,
the last of it.
Minutes you filled
in nights drawn in,
we're in.
You're fantastic,
near past it.

You're practically a mantra now,
sans repetition
held soft
in a good dream;
I forget your name
in the bloom of now.

Blatantly
you say,
with typical
forthright
knowing
wonder,
I love you,
& I,
trying to gather my thoughts
say,
without the weight of thinking;
I love you too,
when I wanted summer
you made my sky blue.

Things start in different ways,
sometimes soft and faint
hardly rippling
still
but
gentle
with glorious intent.
Or, instantly sudden,
sodden in anew,
caught in the unstoppable
thrall
of quickening season,
fast and swift
with love the reason.

Obviously
you lit a fire in me.
Not the kind that requires
frantic calling
when out of control
and at the least decimating
in strong wind,
or turning cinders
when ignored,
spitting threats of consume
to all
with every rose,
no, not those.
This is contained,
filling my space
with the heat
of you;
obviously,
you lit a fire in me.



.

Around you
defences drop,
ramparts rescind,
blocks become silly things;
you open with smile the fleck of tut,
move all to joy
and end the shut.

Step upon this ground
make it more than it is.
It trembles as you tread,
happy to hold you,
as air is happy to hold you
how long you stay
or say,
now
and
today.

An old tree
once adored in majestic decoration
watches
a cat get fat
from a wet garden.
It feeds at different houses
but no longer a home,
shying from strokes,
used to the cold
and
forgetting love.
Barer branches see
a sudden migration
in winter years
leave a street emptier;
no more advice on hanging washing,
papers passed on or prescriptions dropped off.
A time in season
lost.

Pristine,
every trace gone,
to start clean.
As we did.
Spaces into habitat,
safe, warm
and scared,
shared in here.
A dot on a circle
in walls the age of trees.

A path seemed bumpy
now knows no slight deviation;
smooth as the groove the run to your station.

Near you
is being sat under butterfly blue skies;
a world resplendent with confident soaring,
not seeming
to flutter by.

How like you to
offer something
when someone
is in strife,
giving all the happy
when the unknown is in life,
how like you to do that,
how like you to be there,
how like you to be wonderful,
how like you to be care,
how like to be magnificent,
how like you to be strong,
how like you to suggest something called belong.

When you get off a train I'm happy,
that's because it usually means you're a step closer to me;
your near proximity improves my all,
my string theory
and my ABC.
Just your foot on a platform means I understand more of the air,
as you're a further tad towards me,
making the best of my everywhere.

Possibilities change
to what is
near you,
any reaching
suddenly gone
to constant wonder.
Hypothesis discarded
until tomorrow,
or longer;
as it's you, right now.

Saturday morning becomes
simple
with you
by my side,
magnifying the open
with nothing to hide;
you're the bestest surprise,
with the summer in your eyes.

Just one more time come around sun
and bring the warm easy
like you always do,
your rescinding shine
has in it all of you;
being the days you were.

You talk
in reminders
of spring,
through branches
that have never heard of you,
or seen the colour green.
Running in empty,
the bright in store,
what you'll all be;
a supreme full together,
good for each other.

Once,
you were away from me
and days to count;
to strive ,
to arrive.
Once
it all changes,
as next to you
always
changes.

You seem like you'll always
be
your beautiful head,
all brilliant full
but never led;
knowing steps in deep
winter snow,
and when to wait
in summertime glow;
no-one could ever deem you foe
as the destination is wonder
wherever you go.

Words I associate with you
jump quickly
off the page,
a collection of letters
making soar my days.

At all sketches a dab hand,
the touch of deft
drawing safe land.

You
sleek
with
advancement,
turning battles benign;
all fronts blue and sun:
special is your name.