Have you ever fit a *****
Only to find it tweaked?
Have you ever replaced a door hinge
Only to find the new one squeaked?
Or fixed a concern with another?
Because I'm afraid, right now, that's me.

I filled my head with helium
And it keeps trying to float away.
My hands shiver as if cold
On this warm and sunny day.
My heart kicked up its tempo
Though my body only sways.

I think might be dying,
At the very least I'm green.
How long can it freeze my brain,
Clogging up my blood stream?
Until finally I wonder how much
Is too much when taking in caffeine?

Have you ever seen the rain?
Amidst the mossy caverns light,
No pain among the insane’s plight,
Imprinting silvery vervain,
Have you ever seen the rain?

Falling softly, washing pain,
Through whispers of the trees decay,
Under the gentle stars anew,
With pleas serene, a lasting hue.
Have you ever felt the rain?

Kissing cheeks with no disdain,
A soothing touch, a cool embrace,
In its realm no harm, no pain,
Have you ever felt the rain?

It cleanses wounds that lie within,
Bewitching souls, a gentle kin,
And as it falls, a symphony unfolds,
Of nature's orchestra, with stories untold.

Have you ever heard the rain?
Its melodic chorus, a sweet refrain?
A lullaby for restless souls,
Guiding them with peaceful notes.
Have you ever heard the rain?

It murmurs secrets to the earth,
Of rebirth, life, and unknown mirth,
And in its cadence, a sacred art,
The rhythm of life, a beating heart.

So, have you ever seen the rain?
Gracefully mundane in its reign,
For in its tears, there's wisdom deep,
That even storms lay you to sleep.

© fey (17/04/24)

Wispy wheat fields wave in the wind
As the train chugs through
Along the track of Life that circles
To bring you back where you began.

They say The Journey is the thing:
Meandering through river cut valleys
Between towering mountains.
Rivers running down to endless ocean
That drowns our globe
We call the Earth.

Kids wave from the windows of that train
A custom of love for fellow humankind.
All aboard are full of hopes and dreams
And fears
Anticipating all manner of things
At their destination for the day.

Many have gone to the seaside this way,
While others have travelled for work
Or even a new life.
Our ancients may have been nomads
And modern folk too must sometimes journey.
There’s no place like home,
But first you have to get there.
Go safely everyone.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\4\2024.

I'm in a cool group.
To stay on top
of my writing, and to
promote and market
my poetry, I often
publish online.
If Lord Byron could
hear that.

In this place that
I belong,
I have deadlines.
I procrastinate until
the very last day, and then
scribble some ******
lines and get angry with
myself for putting the
writing off.

I have a couple of
weeks before I need
to write a sonnet or villanelle.
I'm getting anxiety.
It's not producing the
desired effect of
hard work or discipline.
No
Not that.
It is getting me thinking.
That is sometimes productive,
and usually comical.

I'm thinking about
the 15 months I've
been sober.
For many years,
I was miserable.
Drinking and writing.
Writing and drinking.
Holding the bottle of
***** to my shivering
lips to get the last
spider of liquid.
My clothes smelled of
decay and cowardice, and
everything tasted like
rotten meat.

Now, I have a beautiful
maple desk that my three
cats like to sleep
on while I write
poems about
procrastination and sobriety.
Such fuzzy black miracles.
They twitch as they
dream of fish and catnip,
and just maybe they
dream about writing a
sonnet for me.
We are all
addicted to something.

Our paths have crossed for a reason
So many years gone by
Near or far
I believe there is a reason
So many seasons gone by
             Destiny

If love's the only air that we breathe, my dear,
No gasping struggle, no consuming fear.
It fills our lungs, a sweetness light and pure,
Invigorating life, forevermore.

In whispered sighs and laughter's joyful sound,
Love's oxygen sustains, on sacred ground.
A gentle breeze, it lifts us when we fall,
And carries dreams beyond the castle wall.

No other breath is needed, can compare,
Love's air sustains us, a love we share.
Still, I believe
If love is the only air that we breathe