Take
me
away
with
a
well
tuned tale
of
tiny twigs twitching
to the
sweet, soothing sounds
of
swaying songbirds set seaward
to
shores
that
reach rocks rolled
upward
and
under undying undertones
of
washed, wayward welks woven with
the
wind
and
waves whispering water's ways
to the tune
of
twitching twigs
and the
sweet, soothing sounds
of
songbirds
taking
me
away
with
a
well
tuned tale.

How fickle is the word love.
That word can be murmured, screamed and written as easily as the first line of this poem.
Is love obsolete, or is that word unable to express the grandeur of this emotion.
As my body over heats and my chest explodes within, it becomes clear.
Love is not enough.
It is too simplistic for that dark creature that lives in an attractive misty material.
Rose quarts, ruby, raw amber.
Amber as old as time, buried for years,  deserted and left to tarnish and become cold.
Given a hand to hold its rough body and smooth its uneven and faded exterior, this can reveal missing pieces of time and beauty that renders one breathless.
You are my anber

I am Oolitic Limestone,
Made of tons upon tons of tiny ooids.
Which in turn are made of grains of sand and once beautiful shells.
Held together by a cement of calcite.
All of myself forming from a long life of constant waves,
Rolling along a river bed, collecting as I continue rolling.
I am a sedimentary rock.
Constantly changing, constantly rolling against the warm waves.

You are the stone thrown
into the depths of my river,
the subtle unsettling
upon my surface.
As you sink below my water,
don't fear that you may disappear
like all the secrets beneath--
from you the
stillness in my bones
ripples out and echoes sweet
from the deepness
that lives inside.

Questions curdle
Each disdainful day
A glowering cloud
The threat of rain
Pounding footsteps
Troughs of anguish
Wavering moments
Images of altercations
The pleasure of detesting
Chocolate cake
Flavoured with money
Resentful ripples
Washed up on rocks
Drowning sounds
Solemn and deep
Slowly sinking
Disconcerted water birds
Shimmering reflections
Echoes in the darkness
Displaced by contradictions
Clanging, banging
Bouncing *****
Dissolving memories
Misplaced optimism.

my mother insists
she was never a witch
but she gave me a bag of amethyst,
sunstones,
citrine

When I was a girl I loved cars and Kim Possible
And green rocks I’d find in the pebble fillings of our school playgrounds,
Because they were rare and therefore special.
I read twenty books on gemstones and minerals and stared at the pictures for hours
Hoping one day I could be beautiful and solid and reflect the colours
You can’t see
If you burn your retinas looking directly at the sun.

When I was a girl I became a driveway because I thought
If I paved myself with tarmac or cement
I’d be hard enough to withstand the weight of everyone around my heart
And grounded enough to support myself,
But the construction workers forgot to check for groundwater
And I caved in when people decided
To unapologetically and unquestioningly park their ***** in the handicap spot,
Mistaking the importance of my handicaps for the importance of their egos.

When I was a girl I became an asteroid,
Seeking a gravitational pull around a star that would give me a name and meaning.
But instead I found a black hole,
And before I realised my mistake in universal direction
Her gravity obliterated me
And absorbed whatever the **** was left
Of the force I could have been.

When I was a person I became a tree,
Rooted to the earth rather than separate
And absorbing the light for sustenance.
I’ve forgotten what it means to be hardened,
But even my cells have walls around them
And now I’m as afraid of the ground as I am of the sky
And brave enough to reach into both
And just maybe find some answers in the crust or clouds.