The orange street lights wait
With heads bowed to be relieved.
Rows of curtained windows
Long to draw back the night
And excited raindrops cling
Perilously to leaves that would quiver
But nothing dares flinch
Or stir from sleep
Until we receive the call
That the gallery is about to open,
For this morning we are all
Painted so perfectly still.

All that is except for the clouds
Those great grey whales
Whose mystical journeys
Are chartered at first
By the faintest streaks of blue.
From under the ocean I marvel
As their huge resolute forms
Lumber purposively across my world
And I realize that the miracle
Has happened again,
I can breath unaided.

Now smaller shoals of fish appear
And lighter in form and texture,
All they want is to play
So let them have their moment
Let them disperse and lose their way
Or else face the conquering
Legions of a Royal hue.

But for now, gentle radiant light filtering down
Permeates it's subject, like a thank you.

Every night I prayed
Thankful for my life
A home, a job, a son, a wife.
My prayers, I believed,
Kept it all together.
Thankful also for our health,
Grateful for the simple things
For I thought
If I took nothing for granted
My prayers would have
More chance of being noticed.

And then you left.
Taking your prayers with you
Must have meant you stopped
Praying for me.
I quickly realised how yours
Had been the only ones
That had been listened to.
Mine had probably never
Reached their target,
Falling somewhere back to earth.

Body I will lay you down now
Leave you in the bed
Because I want to enjoy this morning
Free from pain.
And mind, I will leave you
A little further down the path,
Thank you for all you tried to do.
And soul, let us go on
See where this goes.

No more shall we talk of the passion
That swells the tides, fills the sails
And turns us into explorers,
They say it is overrated anyway.
Give us a cosy room
And tucked up safely in bed
Some hot chocolate and a good book instead.
An adventure with lashings of romance
Would be perfect.

Two lives became one
Became one again.

Two prayers, understood, unspoken
Complete as two halves
Now shouted aloud
But halved.

Food chosen for three
By small fingers pointing
Now bought for one
Prepared as solemn ritual
In silence
At the end of the day.

Went to bed at 6am
So I've ruined the day
Made myself feel ill
Unsettled, a bit panicky.
Will I never learn
That sleep is for sleeping
Waking is for waking,
How can I confuse the two?
It's just that lately
With the days so uncertain
Sometimes I like to make the nights
Last as long as I can.

All is blue, tinged with blue
The sky and sea that is,
And here he is, riding boldly
Across the beach
Into their lives
On to the half finished canvas
The tumbling, shimmering waves
That would have gone on past the horizon.
He makes delicate fingers tremble
Paint things how they could have been,
He causes the sun to skip
The wind to turn,
Leaves them in no doubt
And us holding the reins.