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Jan 2022 · 1.5k
Read Me
Ffion Jones Jan 2022
having your lover
trace your earloves with their
fingernib is as intimate as
reading.
You make me surreal with love.
Jun 2020 · 530
Carry me gently
Ffion Jones Jun 2020
Carry me gently
Over the lilting waves
Towards the Spanish sea;
Let my moonlight skin
spark the water around me and
guide my floating body to where my
soul shall rest.

I let the tide take its course,
Trusting Poseidon to grant me mercy and
pull me to my heart's crying need before it
bursts and spatters the
ocean's clarity.

Bobbing up and down like a seagull
I can taste the salty spray - it
tempts me further towards the
island of my dreams, and the
bitterness on my tongue will
transform into the sweetest nectar of
the gods, when I wash up there.

It is not the laws of men which
carry me gently over the
lilting waves, but the
buoyant love within me that
keeps me afloat and
full of hope.
This poem is about how I want to be reunited with my boyfriend who lives in Ibiza. We haven't seen each other since March due to the pandemic and the fact I may be able to see him next month makes me crave him even more.
May 2019 · 317
I Used To Love Crows
Ffion Jones May 2019
I used to love crows;
     I loved the way their glossy feathers
glittered in the daylight,
The way their eyes could
freeze a person's thoughts.

I used to love crows;
I'd read about their cunning ways
and how they harbour revenge -
I admired their loyalty to those
other crows that had been wronged by humans.

I was bewitched by them and their
croaky song,
A melody that almost foreshadowed the
downfall of the cursed.

I used to love crows,
But now I despise them.

If I could pluck each feather
off their haunted bodies I would,
Either to bring back what I've lost
Or just for the sheer pleasure of their pain.

Perhaps one day I will grow to
love them again.
But until that day,
   May God watch over the crows I cross.
Feb 2019 · 447
Weighed down
Ffion Jones Feb 2019
A rock sits on my heart
And your name is written on it.
God I used to write some depressing stuff xD
Feb 2019 · 534
Does silence speak volumes?
Ffion Jones Feb 2019
They say silence speaks volumes,
but they must never have heard the
howling wind
shattering the ground's heart,
tearing the clouds apart.
Whatever I write, nature has a habit of sneaking its way through :)
Feb 2019 · 330
Sweet Lies
Ffion Jones Feb 2019
I spin myself a web of lies;
Lies that are disguised as the sweetest nectar
Yet contain a sickly poison within -
Killing yet comforting with every dose.

My tainted spell bewitches me,
To the point where both
mind and matter are
completely controlled by my
pleasurable pain,
And when my sense rejects this impulse my
insatiable heart clamours for more
and more,
pushing me to the brink of insanity -
Insanity that no one but my desire is to blame.

And what lies can influence the logical mind so?
Lies of unspoken passion which only my eye can see,
if my eye is to be believed.
Fantasies of requited need and longing,
Dreams of endless wonder at what could be
and what might be, maybe.

I don't want to believe my lies anymore
For they fool my silly heart,
Yet perhaps my lies are the only thing
Keeping my heart from breaking.
Throwback to when I fell in love at first sight all those years ago ✌️
Feb 2019 · 444
Protect yourself
Ffion Jones Feb 2019
My thorns grow
meaner by the day, to
protect my
withering heart from the
rose I cannot claim.
This is a snippet from a poem I wrote years ago!
Jul 2018 · 440
Time is Currency
Ffion Jones Jul 2018
Time is currency,
Coins that I want to save up
Just to spend on you.
My attempt at a haiku!
Jul 2018 · 394
You're Not Really There
Ffion Jones Jul 2018
Curled up like a young pup
I snuggle into the safety of my bed,
the delicate scent of dreams
floating through my mind, and bringing
me to the comfort of
you.

Wrapped in your arms
I feel as if nothing can hurt me,
The protector of my heart
shielding me from pain,
Until at last you pull out your sword and
make my love for you bleed,
As you're not really there.

The breeze from my window
caresses my cheek while I lie
paralysed, and I reach out,
rabid for your touch but instead I
clutch at the cold wisps of wind that
tease me, as
You're not really there.
My dreams of you are so vivid, they both **** and comfort me.
Jun 2018 · 1.2k
"Keep Smiling And Dreaming"
Ffion Jones Jun 2018
"Keep smiling and dreaming" you wrote,
The ink on the page glistening like a
star in the sky as you slowly became
my universe.

That was so long ago,
back when you were the
cause of my sweetest smiles,
and yet,
I find my lips curving upwards still
when I trace your words with my fingertip,
The warmth between us rushing back with the
high of nostalgia, but the
low of longing slyly creeps in slowly after.

"Keep smiling and dreaming" you whispered,
But my smiles become a sigh
And my dreams seem like a lie.
Reading your letters after all these months is such a bittersweet experience for me
Jun 2018 · 946
Fear of Commitment
Ffion Jones Jun 2018
I have a fear of commitment;
A fear I can't lose,
For holding onto stardust
Is something I can't do.

I have a fear of attachment;
A fear strong and true,
For clinging onto ashes
Is something I would do.

I have a fear of contentment;
One that sticks like glue,
For getting far too happy
Would **** me through and through.

I had a fear of commitment;
That is, until
I met you.
You changed everything.
May 2018 · 385
Love Is Like A Shadow
Ffion Jones May 2018
Love is like a shadow,
Creeping silently into your heart
while your eyes are turned to
the sun,
Hoping to find hidden solace.

But this slippery shadow is the
darkness your soul needs
to grow.
My attempt at writing a shorter poem, when I first started falling in love for the first time.
May 2018 · 640
Sickly Sweet
Ffion Jones May 2018
Everywhere we look,
There are sprinkles scattered across the sky
Marshmallow trees that tower over us
And grass made of fruit laces which
entangles us together, forever.

I pick a flower for you that smells like jelly beans,
Reminding us of our youth, our colour.
Strawberry-scented birds swoop around us,
Laughing and singing in angel delight while
blueberry bees buzz in return.

I turn to look into your chocolate brown eyes which
melt into bliss,
But beware of such sweetness as it can become
so sour.
I wrote this poem years ago and yet it's now become relevant to my personal life... who knew I'd be foreshadowing my own future?
May 2018 · 586
Those Wild-Haired Men
Ffion Jones May 2018
They tease and they tantalise
Those wild-haired men,
For a raging sea of shapes that
clamour and grasp for their attention,
Despite blending into the colours of others.

Their velvet voices softer than their
growling, grovelling masks onstage,
Their words full of electric promise that
dazzle a new generation in new times,
Transcending the blur of decades to provide
hope for lost souls.

Untainted by the cracked lines of age
Simply because they never wore them in the first place.
And yet they fill their caged time with
fireworks that burn into the heart of the
living, and spark the memory of the
dying.

Ah, how I adore those wild-haired men,
For they carry me to a brighter time
Which I can only experience in my mind.
I wrote this a few years ago as a tribute to my favourite rock stars from the 1960s and 1970s. Long live rock 'n' roll!
May 2018 · 275
This Warm Woodland Of Mine
Ffion Jones May 2018
Calmly under trusted branches I do sit
In this warm woodland of mine,
While flowers faint by my feet as their
breath is taken away by the peace around us.

Bees lazily drift pass me,
Dreaming of their life-giving nectar,
And I, too, imagine such bliss
Although mine takes on the shape of love -
Love I have never tasted,
But which brings light to my ever-blooming heart
all the same.

Suddenly vivid wind sweeps into my woodland
Blowing my hair and my thoughts away -
Away from those hazy dreams of mine
That only come alive in my mind.
I wrote this a year or so before experiencing love for the first time; dreaming of its full force which propels life forward, bringing colour to all it touches.
May 2018 · 276
Burning Love
Ffion Jones May 2018
The worshipers gather in droves
at her feet like a clamouring congregation,
Desperate to begin the ceremony of the
giving and taking of love;
A burning love which only she can radiate.

Shamelessly they lie there,
Basking in her seductive warmth
Blessed at her selflessness while they
selfishly adorn themselves with her splendour,
Taking and taking until she cannot bear it anymore.

Soon she scorns them to the point where her
red ire is clear for all to see,
Blemishing the golden happiness she bestows upon them -
A burning love which only she can turn to pain.
May 2018 · 330
The End of the Beginning
Ffion Jones May 2018
And so it ended.
The beginning of the chapter already
torn apart like it was a false start,
the paper confetti scattering in the wind.
Our lead bodies drag across an endless sheaf
searching for the right metaphor, yet we
splinter and stagger instead.
We scribble around each other, our words intertwined yet
apart, neither of us knowing when we would
rhyme again.
And so this narrative goes on, in the hope that
someday we will be on the same page with the
right ending.

— The End —