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Jamesb Feb 2022
As I sit waiting in the storm,
My car buffeted by the wind
And pedestrians leaning
At impossible angles
Those few who dare
Perambulate

I watch the ferry that will
Carry me back approach
The dock at a crazy offset
With wind driven waves
Smashing in spite
Against its side,

Outrageous weather
And red travel warnings
Everywhere yet this ship
Will sail and on it will I be
With my car and with my son
Travelling anyway,

And such is my life
In many ways,
For there are many waves
Hurled against me
And the winds that set against
Are huge,

But ships are safe alongside
The Dock
And I would be if I would
But acquiesce
But ships were not built
For harbour's shelter

But rather for the open sea,
And therein lies the issue,
Ships should brave
The oceans swell
And so the same
For me
Whilst waiting for a ferry back from the IoW
Jamesb Feb 2022
Can change a life,
Yet not just the one
That you'd expect,
Not just the existence
Of two souls involved
But also those of others,
For not just our hearts
Were gladdened
When I said that I love you,
But another heart jumped at that
Phrase for it pleased
Your mother too
Short? Yes
Sweet? Perhaps
True? I hope so
Jamesb Feb 2022
...that I saw
And how did it mine eyes perceive?
For I saw - albeit with hindsights perfect focus -
Beauty and passion and God,
But how did that shine?

How did that preciousness
That value and that potential
Light mine eyes
Through all those layers
And years of accumulated ****?

Yet once seen such a glow,
However glimmering or pale,
Cannot be denied nor yet become
Unseen nor unknown, and
Definitely not undesired,

And now the effort spent
Spitting on rags,
Buffing hard to remove
Decades of perceived unworthiness
Are bearing fruit,

For now I see a more
Even lustre as my
Project and my protégé
Steps out in confidence
And power,

Shining ever brighter
With a light inextinguishable,
Because although my effort
Undoubtedly played its part ,
It's GOD that's powered this change,

Not me...
The site deleted half this poem. I finally tricked it into saving the rewrite. It's quite personal this one but then, aren't they all?
Jamesb Jan 2022
But rocks are hard
And buttocks are soft
And the two do not
Good bedfellows make
And I cannot remain here,

And so I climb,
Again,
Scrabble painfully up the scarp,
Again,
Towards the light

Of a sun which seems
So very far
And unfeeling
In an azure sky that
Holds little hope

But each painful inch
Is one less in the shade,
Every focused lever against the
Gravity of pain and loss
Removes me from its grasp

A little more,
Until eventually the suns rays
Start to penetrate the cloak
Of my depressed state
And even my wracked muscles

Start to warm and,
At the cliff top from whence I fell,
I spy that rock which my back
Missed still stood in place
Where it always was

Did I lean the wrong way
Or did it wobble?
Or was it a bit of both?
Either way it feels stable now
A rock

On which I pause to lean
Kind of closes a loop this one
Jamesb Jan 2022
And as I fell on backwards
Into the vacant air that once
Was rock to have my back,
I felt the shock of water
Envelop me,
That great and boundless deep
Come to claim my soul,

Cold water shock though,
Not the warm embrace
Of my heart attack,
But an alien freezing
Splutter inducing cold
And I do not like it,
Not yet my time to die

And so I struggle back to shore,
Haul myself from the waves
That rejected me and sit
Shivering,
Alone,
And silent,
On the rocky outcrop of my sadness
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