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Tinkerbell Smith Aug 2015
Island Boy

He was lost
An island within an island

She threw a rope
A starry tow line in wet and molten tar
In the dark, in the shadows
Choked by his scent and fiery heat
Travelled far

He could not find his time and place
But only when he saw her face
Smelt her hair, was touched by her grace

Life it swelled, it raged, it soared
Yet all she saw was a closed door
Trapped on his island, surrounded
Having less but craving more

The tow line it twisted, it burnt,it pained
She cast it out but not yet cut
She held tight, she held firm, she bled
And only let go when she heard him say
Love loss confusion darkness
Tinkerbell Smith Aug 2015
A sliver of gold can can make a heart turn to rust
A soul into dust

It can stop another dead in their tracks
Frozen in its cracks

Such a small thing she turned in her hand
A life in a band

Hot furious water, wild dangerous seas
Golden wheat fields, lazy bees

Dazed, tired, lost and yet found
Free at last yet utterly bound
love secret
Tinkerbell Smith Jun 2015
Gin blossoms on hot tears
Dew damp feet and ringing ears
Moonlight scattered all around
Frogs leaping on silver ground
Feathery wild haired dill alert
Soft sage, mint and thyme in the dirt
Sparkling hidden webs catch and tie
Mice scatter, breathe, stop then lie
She wanders, stumbles, stops, looks up
And thinks of her hidden sun in the jewel sky
Tinkerbell Smith May 2015
Butterflies...across my face
Is what you said my words were to you

Wings of brown drifting
across two pools of ice blue

Slender fingers laced with red
Outstretched across the bed

And yet there was a pause
a sudden close of doors

Keys clattered and locks shut
A yes, a no,a sighed but...

Hawthorn high and bluebells droop
The morning star, the endless loop

My mouth formed the shape
and you fell out soft vowel
Mine a consonant, low like an owl

Flash of blue, rapeseed gold
A white lace flower
A secret to hold.
To a kingfisher
Tinkerbell Smith May 2015
Using my fairest hand
I wrote your name on a scrap of paper,
And slipped it into my wallet
So it would be next to my heart
All day.

So that I could carry you with me
To venerate
Like the bones of a blessed saint
In a casket.

I opened up my box of relics
A testament to loves
To hearts broken
To lives unravelled.

An acorn that did not grow into an oak.
A fossil from some petrified forest.
Mocking my broken heart
With it's unthinkable age.

The note, scribbled,
The perfumed scarf.
The poem.
The coaster.

To remind me
As if I could ever
This is not written by me but is a mirror held up by a beautiful soul
Tinkerbell Smith May 2015
A late night meditation

Do you remember that soft, red, velvet chamber?
It was dark and warm and whispered sighs in your ears.

Do you remember that soft, red, velvet chamber?
Your finger lazily outlining where the key should be.

Do you remember that soft, red, velvet chamber?
It was a secret place, a sacred place.
Slow beating.

Do you remember?
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