Maybe I don’t need the sunlight to blind me,
but gentle sunshine to bathe me
with its life sustaining light,
engulfing me in its warmth
and making me feel at home;
at peace; finally.
The best days at Gladstone park
were not the summer days or even fall,
they were springtime days
with a promise of a full bloom
come the summer.
Summer never came
and the just about blooming flowers
started to wilt until they died in my heart.
Maybe summer is not my season,
it is too hot and scorching towards my soul.
Maybe it burns so brilliantly
that it erodes my life away
and I’m lost in a sea of light that is so bright
that it’s hard to make out night from day.
Maybe I need to stay in the promise of the bloom,
for young love and my groom..
maybe I need to be not where I want to be
in a place or time,
but with a person who is mine…
who calls me “mine” and claims me.
Maybe I can enjoy the park again when it’s spring,
maybe I can go to a different park
that reminds me of him..
there is a park that I have been to,
where ducks quack in the pond
and the fish swim too..
it felt like spring,
it was spring..
even when the chilly breeze
grazed my skin,
his touch kept me warm amidst our spring.
Maybe I need to be not where I am,
but where the spring is
as the spring is the perfect weather
for my hair and skin too,
it is just cold but sunny but windy
and there’s green leaves too.
Everything is better with a promise of spring
and when the spring springs onto us,
it is always a beautiful day too..
like a daydream, too unreal
but realistically within reach too.
I just need to be,
where the flowers bloom for spring
and my heart sings too.

Sitting here in the car
with the windows semi-down
there is a bloom of content
as the door is swung open
to receive a cool breeze
which breaths on my face
and glides over my feet
relishing their woodland walk
my body embracing the warmth of the end of May
as Springtime collides into summer

The flowers pass in waves
Waving as they go
Colours fit to burst
Petals pure as snow

The serenade of spring
The love new life will bring
Blossom on the trees
Fragrance on the breeze

While flowers pass in waves
Waving like they know
Colours fit to burst
Petals pure on show

The cavalcade of spring
When pigeons coo and sing
Heart strings stretched out tight
Each day’s a new delight.

(Plucking in the night ;)

Grandma is bored, she waits
for my wedding and perhaps
she fantasises that I'm getting pregnant

How would it have been
with grandfather and her in bed?
We don't talk about that

just about the afternoons
in the sun, gaining some
colour for the summer

She would have liked that, but
at that time people thought differently
Anyway, bikinis did not yet exist

So much has changed, she reads it
to me from the magazine
and I laugh at her astonishment

She is old, her hair as white
as the walls in this sun, lovely
Lu does not have to come yet

The swallows return
unveiling the garment of spring
it's a season of greenery
walking in the field
a beautiful painting is in front of you
butterflies will show you the way
light wind will dance
climbing to the top of the hill
the brook will sing for you
run with you
hot sun in the blue sky
will make your body shine
in this sweet season
I'd like to walk with you
and walk into the depths
of the flowery splendor.

i knew you were in torpor.
for the winter air, just like before,
didn’t allow you to soar
nor spread your wings;
or create new beginnings.
but now we’re at an ending—
and i could just remember
how close you were
by the dying ember;
singing a tune or two,
of a melody just for you.
but the sad, cold nights are over,
maybe you have heard.
so now—rejoice and fly higher;
sing as you soar,
my little bird!