Sunday 30 November 2014

PLAY ME:


Let me be the music in your dance, through living,

The melodies in your heart, that keeps on giving,

I am your instruments of music, both living & dead,

Swirling & waltzing, with love around your head.

 

I´m your oud, your dumbek, your daff & your drum,

I´m the strings of your zither & harp that you strum,

I shall be your zil, your lyre, your flighty lute & guitar,

Caress me & play me, I´ll be your bass & Indian sitar.

 

Please just play me with love & caress me in old tunes,

Serenade me with notes, within your nights of hot Junes,

Together we shall whisper, through the corridors of time,

Play me darling; just play me, in beats, rhythm & rhymes.

 

 

NOTION OF TIME:


The old lady gazes, into the mirror of time,

Back to times of those old nursery rhymes,

To being a child, threading chains of daisies,

It´s still all so clear & yet, it appears so hazy.

 

The old lady goes back, to being maid & lover,

Back to babes in her arms & playing the mother,

To the Clara Bow lips, painted scarlet & bee-stung,

It´s still all so vivid & yet, lost in songs past sung.

 

The old lady looks now, at her fading reflection,

Back to yesterdays, & without further inspection,

Turning her back to the mirror & her notion of time,

Singing with her Mama, her favourite nursery rhymes.

Saturday 29 November 2014

THE HAUNTING:


Say that you love me, & then I shall be on my way,

But, by not saying the words, around you, I will stay,

Swirling like silvered mists, upon a cold midnight lake,

Entwining your heart, as the kiss from venomous snake.

 

Say that you will miss me & then I shall leave you alone,

But, by not saying the words, I will then stay in your home,

Tiptoeing like whispers, through your hallways & old stairs,

Raising up your hopes & at the back of your nape, the hairs.

 

Say that you will meet me, beyond heavens locked up doors,

But, by not saying the words, then know I can never be yours,

Remembering lost dreams, within mists of our dwindling love,

I´ll be around & be watching you, from below & from up above.

 

HIDE AND SEEK:


My love curls around you, while you´re busy not looking,

It rises up from your cauldron, in the steam of your cooking,

My love trips up your treading, over life´s stones & boulders,

It floats from old trees, upon your hunched passing shoulders.

 

My love awaits your sipping lips, within the dregs of your wine,

It stirs in your morning dressing & within your laces, it entwines,

My love is in your bouquet´s petal, of your dropped dead rose,

It lives within the folds & creases, of your night´s pillow, in repose.

 

My love for you, is so invisible, yet, it´s in all you are & all you do,

My love plays hide & seek, but, it will always be peeping at you,

My love is very playful & it´s within all those songs that you sing,

My love is here, my love is there & my love is in every little thing.

 

Friday 28 November 2014

IF WE CAME BACK AS BIRDS:


If we came back to earth, born as birds,

I´d be nightingale & sing in feathered words,

Or maybe, I´d be a swooping young swallow,

So that within blue skies, I would dip & wallow.

 

If we came back as birds, born upon this earth,

I´d be penguin, wadding about in my suit of mirth,

Or maybe I would be, that mightiest bird of prey,

Summoning all up high & with me, to soar & play.

 

If we come back as birds, one far & distant day,              

I´d be peacock, with vivid bright plumes arrayed,

Or maybe I´d want to be, the gentle pearly dove,

Showing all the world, how to, unconditionally love.

A DIFFERENT MANNER OF LOVING:


I ask not for accolades, bugles & fluttering banners,

I ask only to be loved dearly, in very different manner,

I ask only to be loved, without the punch, spit & knife,

I ask only to be cherished, respected & loved as your wife.

 

I ask not for the slapping, hitting, nor slyly nipped tweak,

I ask only for your kisses planted, softly upon my cheeks,

I ask only for your soft words, & the kind gesture or two,

I ask only for gentle loving, for I am so in love with you.

 

I ask not for the shoving, pushing, cussing & aimed guns,

I ask only for your respect, as doting mother of your sons,

I ask only for your loving, as there is nothing else to find,

I ask only of you, to be gentle, friendly, & to be a little kind.

 

I ask you for no reasons, for you tell me that you´re sorry,

I ask for simple love, without reasons for fret nor worry,

I ask only for your caring, & with only sweet words said,

I ask only for memories made, that remain in heart & head.

 

Thursday 27 November 2014

I AM ALONE:


I was a daughter,

I am now an orphan,

I am alone.

 

I was a child,

I am now an adult,

I am alone.

 

I was a girlfriend,

I was then jilted,

I am alone.

 

I was a wife,

I am now widowed,

I am alone.

 

I was a mother,

I was then left,

I am alone.

 

I was a crone,

I then died,

I am alone.

 

I am a spirit,

I am now free,

I am not alone.

CREATURE OF HABIT:


Oh what a terrible creature of habit I am,

Fearing to veer away, from my old daily plan,

Tea & toast for breakfast & coffee at eleven,

Prayers at night, to ensure my place in heaven.

 

My bath water hot, not tepid & never ever cold,

Sheets smoothed straight with no crease or fold,

Don´t touch my TV, it´s programmed the right way,

With just the right colours, I sup my five every day.

 

My chocolate´s always dark & my wine always red,

Pyjamas & slippers, fluffy & always ready for bed,

Oh my dear, what a terrible creature of habit I am,

So move along please & don´t be changing my plan.

 

Wednesday 26 November 2014

I´LL GIVE YOU THE SKY:


The little blind owlet, born without any sight,

Looking up to the sky & dreamed of free flight,

Little head facing to feathered Gods, in the sky,

His silent little prayers, asking, “Why oh why?”

 

The Gods then answered, “It´s the way things are,”

Some are destined to earth & others to fly away far,

Some creatures never get to see & others never hear,

And you my little owlet, hear what the deaf so fear.

 

The little owl then turned, towards deep night skies,

“How I wish to touch you, with my wings & my eyes,”

The sky shed her tears, within the raindrops & the dew,

 “Little owl, as you can´t come to me, I shall come to you,”

 

So the sky came down, with trailing stars shining bright,

They settled within the eyes of little owlet´s blind sight,

Then the little owl shed a tear, as he flew within his sky,

“Thank you sky, now in my eyes, you´ll always be nearby.”

 

THE KEEPER:


She is the keeper, of the solitary whispers,

Keeper, of old candle light´s flickering glister,

She is the guardian, of the new babe´s breath,

Protector of last sighings, at imminent death,

She is the caresser of winds & soft grey breezes,

She´s the tickling of leaves, as she softly teases,

She is the tiptoeing, of the passing Angel´s tread,

She is the carer of the dying, & of those long dead,

She´s the silent word, of wishes & long lost dreams,

The keeper of promises, oaths & gently laid schemes,

She is the feeling of love I have, for you in my heart,

She´s keeper of love, ensuring, we shall never be apart.

 

Tuesday 25 November 2014

DECADES OF SACHA:


At one, she was a real wee cutie,

At ten, she was so terrifically twee,

At twenty, she was so very tempting,

At thirty, she was simply tremendous,

At forty, she became fab-fantabulous,

At fifty, she turned into fan-bloody-tastic,

At sixty, she decided she was so succulent,

At seventy, she called herself sassily sexy,

At eighty, she became enigmatic & wise,

At ninety, she said, “I am nearly there”,

At one hundred, she said, “I´ve arrived,”

And, always a woman.

LOVE IS NOT:


Love is not,

Fat or thin, neither to lose & nor to win,

Happy or sad, neither good, nor is bad,

Poor or rich, to garb in robe or not a stitch,

High or low, to be too fast, or far too slow,

Black or white, to be in dark, or in the light,

Hot or cold, to be very young or be very old,

Ice or desert grain, or to be sunshine or rain,

Hut or chapel nave, to be dew or ocean wave,

Love is not just me & you, neither you & me,

Love just is, in all it is, so let´s just let love be.

PROMISES:


Tell me, why do you stay just where you are?

When you could fly up high & run away so far,

When you could go places & realize new schemes,

When you could things, you keep in your dreams.

 

I stay because once, in the past, a long time ago now,

I made an oath, a pledge, a promise & a heartfelt vow,

To love & to honour, through illness & also good health,

To stay close by your side, regardless, of poverty & wealth.

 

I stay now because, you´ve kept the same promises to me,

I stay now because, within your embrace, I´ll always be free,

I stay now because; I said those precious words of “yes I do”,

I stay because; you vowed to love me, just as I love you too.

Monday 24 November 2014

OPTIONS:


Life´s not just black or white, it´s also the grey,

Life´s not just female or male, it´s also the gay,

Life´s not just stubborn or weak, it´s also pliable,

Life´s not just the lie or the truth, it´s also reliable,

Life´s not just the timid or brash, it´s also the bold,

Life´s not just cool or warm, it´s also hot & the cold,

Life´s not just the highs & ups, it´s also the downs,

Life´s not that serious, so just send in the clowns.

HOW CAN I NOT LOVE YOU?


How can I not love you?

When you look at me in that special way,

When you invite my soul to come & play,

When you see in my heart & what it hides,

When you take the time to look deep inside.

 

How can I not love you?

When you lean close by to hear my words,

When you kiss me as soft as feathered birds,

When you listen to every word that I´ve said,

When you take the time to visit inside my head.

 

How can I not love you?

When you know, without asking, my special place,

When, while you caress me, you gaze into my face,

When, while you´re dreaming, you call out my name,

When you tell me, “I love you” & I´ll love you the same.

WE KNOW NOT:


I don´t know you & you don´t know me,

We do not know the places we cannot see,

You can´t hear my words & I can´t hear yours,

We cannot hear words that hide behind jaws,

I don´t touch your skin & you don´t touch mine,

 We cannot feel the flesh, beyond skin entwined,

Side by side without knowing, yet always forever,

We know not, you & I, yet we´re always together.

Sunday 23 November 2014

CANDLE IN THE JAR:


As a small child, she never had enough to eat,

She was always so cold, with never enough heat,

Her clothes were in rags & were all tattered & torn,

Her shoes with holes in, so thin & very much worn,

But upon the table, always a candle lit, in old jam jar.

 

As a mother, always trying hard to make ends meet,

To warm her babies, with never enough fuel to heat,

She would wrap them in love & tell them sweet tales,

She tried so very hard, to stifle their hungry cold wails,

But upon the table, always a candle lit, in old jam jar.

 

As old crone, she huddled, on the corner of the street,

Wrapped in old sacking, with never enough warm heat,

Sleeping in doorways, away from cold raindrops & snow,

Knowing deep in her heart, it was soon time for her to go,

But upon grey pavement, flickered a candle, in old jam jar.

Saturday 22 November 2014

FRAILITY:


She was merely the shadow of her long gone past,

It was only her dim memories, that lingered & last,

Her skin, the mere skein, of a moon moth´s whisper,

Her eyes, garbed in tears, of dawn´s misted glisters,

Her hair, draped in silver, from old spiders spun webs,

Her touch, fleeting as the song, from nightingale´s nebs,

Silence tiptoes through her mind, in secrets yet untold,

Smiling in the mirror, seeing her ageing beauty unfold.

 

Friday 21 November 2014

RED HATS AND RAZZMATAZZ:


When I am old, I shall sport ruby lips & red hats,

I´ll don lilac lace sleeves, to hide my wings of bats,

Down Delaney Street I´ll go, singing blues & old jazz,

And my old jelly hips will jive to all that razzmatazz.

 

When I am old, I´ll dance, prance & skip on my way,

I shall rattle my bracelets, & strings of beads I´ll sway,

And beneath my red hats & my raging old razzmatazz,

I shall show the world, that I´ve not yet lost all my snazz.

 

I may be stiff limbed, but my feet shall still be tapping,

My joints unlimbered, but my hands, I´ll still be clapping,

And within my red-hatted head, I shall still keep the beat,

Oh no honey, old age, will never stop these dancing feet.

 

A SPIRIT GIFTED:


She gave her spirit to one & all, served up on a tray,

To the men she had loved, who then left her to play,

To the babies she had borne, who then all flew away,

To the young, to the elders & to all those in her sway,

She gave all that she had, every night, noon & every day,

She gave to all those in need, without ever having a say,

To one & all, until her own being, began to unravel & fray,

To all lost souls, wherever they trod & wherever they lay,

She gave her spirit to every creature who passed her way,

To all the silent ones & to all those who´d bellow & bray,

To the world she gave, until finally, she knelt down to pray,

With nothing left, she asked God, “Please send spirit my way.”

Thursday 20 November 2014

FALLEN ANGEL:


She tumbled down to earth, in a flurry of feathers,

Upon an old tombstone, of fern & mauve heathers,

An Angel spurned in heaven, by the ire of all Gods,

Lying now in shame, upon the graves of black sods.

 

Fallen Angel sadly banished, to earth now forever,

Hiding her face, beneath wings of shameful feather,

Her duty of the Guardian, had turned her toward sin,

All because impossible love, had turned towards him.

 

INVISIBLE:


To invisible music she dances & sways,

Her tiny wee feet never making a sound,

Step by step to the soundless soft tunes,

Where, only she hears the melodies played.

 

She laughs in cold breezes, as silent as sleet,

Where smiles are painted, in diaphanous air,

Where icy-cold raindrops, kiss her icicled lips,

Where solitary whispers, shoe tiny small feet.

 

She is garbed gently, in mantled glossed sighs,

Draping white shoulders, in cape of furred winds,

And nobody ever sees her silent & soft movings,

As she drifts & sways, then gently & softly, she dies.

 

Wednesday 19 November 2014

SAD PLACES:


Please don’t ever touch my sad places,

Lest they all show their darkened faces,

Please leave them be & let them slumber,

Lest they reveal true colours of grey & umber,

Please be so still, quiet & leave all unshaken,

Lest all my dark places stir & sadly awaken,

Please skirt softly around their gentle hems,

Lest you disturb & rankle each one of them,

Please dance around their tight closed spaces,

Lest you touch my sad & very hidden places.

 

LIFE:


Life is for the living & not for the dead,

Life is for living & not just within the head,

Put life on your bucket list & learn how to fly,

And make life your priority, long before you die.

TELL ME OF TEARDROPS:


Dear Lord, please tell me of teardrops,

Tell me please Lord, from where do they come?

Are they from places where there´s no shining sun?

And tell me please Lord, to where do tears then go?

To the drains & gutters of life, is that where they flow?

Please tell me Lord, what do all wept teardrops think?

Of every tiny teardrop that falls, with each little blink.

 

Dear child, you ask me to tell you of teardrops,

They all come from the heart & journey through the eyes,

They all come from beyond horizons & far reaching skies,

They all cascade down the cheeks of woman, child & man,

Leaving tracks & reminders, within the paths that they ran,

Child, their thoughts as they flow, is of merely deep feeling,

And each tiny little teardrop knows that its duty is of healing.

 

Tuesday 18 November 2014

YOUR LIKENESS:


Everywhere in God´s nature I see your being,

No matter where I look, it´s you I am seeing,

In the laciness of leaves, I see your sweet face,

In frothiness of oceans, of you, there´s a trace,

Embracing branches of trees, your legs & arms,

In giggling ripples of brooks, I sense your charms,

Within the green running rivers, I see your eyes,

In the scudding of clouds, I see you in blue skies,

In winds your wild laughter, on breezes your breath,

Your likeness my love, I see far & long beyond death.

 

SORTED:


They both drank wine, she the red & he the white,

So they drank pink rose` instead, & all was alright,

They liked to dance, she the waltz & he to prance,

So they embraced tightly & that was their dance.

 

And children, he yearned for a boy & she for a girl,

Twins arrived, one of each, & their lives were a whirl,

He liked fish & she ate nothing that had given birth,

So he went off fishing, while she planted good earth.

 

Their lives were a series of sweet & sour, black & white,

They had nothing in common, yet it all seemed just right,

He looked down at the ground, while she looked up above,

Yet it was all sorted for them, under the title of true love.

 

Monday 17 November 2014

THE SMILE:


It´s the smile that turns the sad mouth upside-down,

A friend who visits the blue soul, of gloomy old frown,

It´s the whisper playing like breeze, upon quivering lips,

The smile is the foreplay, of all laughter before it slips.

 

It´s smile who meets the teardrop, at end of downy cheek,

It´s that tantalizing lover, who makes those knees go weak,

It´s the come hither, the invitation that reaches soulful eyes,

The smile is special knowledge, of the very old & very wise.

 

The smile´s not the smirk, the raucous laughter nor the sneer,

The smile´s the softening of the soul, that chases away the tear,

The smile is that invitation, to enter into waiting joyful heart,

The smile, the sign that says, “Of me, you´ll always be a part”.

 

ACHES AND PAINS:


Where I have aches & pains, please touch me,

Where I have that sore place, please kiss me,

Where I have that pain, please massage me,

Where I have the throbbing, please rub me,

Where I have that fever, please do cool me.

 

I need no tablets & pills, put upon my tongue,

I need no injections, for those bees that stung,

I need no specialist doctor, examining my lung,

I need no pretty nurse with her poultice bung,

I need no more than your sweet songs sung.

 

Saturday 15 November 2014

TELL ME LITTLE BUDDHA:


Tell me Little Buddha, for what do you pray?

Is it for all children, to be happy & able to play?

Is it for all their small bellies to be filled & fed?

Is it for each one to be tucked, safe in warm bed?

 

Tell me Little Buddha, for what do you pray?

Is it for all the aged folk, to have a place to stay?

Is it for all the dying, never having to die alone?

Is it for each & every one, to have a loving home?

 

Tell me Little Buddha, for what do you pray?

Is it for all those loved ones, so very far away?

Is it for the lonely, the sick, the poor & the sad?

Is it for all those, who´ve chosen the path of bad?

 

Tell me Little Buddha, for what do you pray?

Is it too much to ask you, not to give it all away?

Is it alright to ask you, to open your eyes & see?

Is it too much to ask you, to save a prayer for me?

 

Friday 14 November 2014

DON´T CUT THE CHEESE:


We share the chores at home, between you & me,

Retired now both, we have more time to be free,

You´d do all the dishes & I would do mopping up,

You´d feed our old cat & I´d walk our small pup.

 

We´d go out & do our grocery shopping together,

You´d buy favourite cheese, which tasted of heather,

You said it was made only by God´s very own touch,

And that a taste like this cheese, was heaven as such.

 

At six every evening, it was our own sundowner time,

You would cut the cheese, while I poured the red wine,

You would never let me cut your precious gold cheese,

As you said that it had to be cut, as thin as light breeze.

 

Then God came & took you away & all suddenly changed,

Your chores I added to mine & my loneliness I re-arranged,

At six I still pour the red wine, but now without any cheese,

Because you once said, I never cut it, as light as the breeze.

MENTAL ILLNESS:


It´s in the tear, upon the cheek as it glistens,

It´s in the questioning, of why nobody listens,

It´s in those places, now so shadowed in grey,

It´s in the playground, where one used to play,

It´s in the fatigue, the tired & the so very weary,

It´s in all that is dull, boring, sad & so very dreary,

It´s in the places so dark, dim & in negative gloom,

It´s in the feeling of being lost, in impending doom,

It´s in the blue lacking of desire, for food, sex & life,

It´s in the useless worrying, the fretting & the strife,

It´s in the panic, the nightmares & awful bad dreams,

It´s in the invisible & within those silent quiet screams,

It´s in all mental illness, it´s real, & believe me it´s there,

It´s when we really need someone, close by us, to care.

Thursday 13 November 2014

HARVEST FESTIVAL:


Hush my love; cease your sad autumn weeping,

Your beauties I´ll gather, in my harvest of reaping,

The cherries of your cheeks & sweet berried lips,

Your teardrops the dew, from where I take sips.

 

I shall kiss the plum eyelids, of your olivine eyes,

I´ll gather wheat-gold hair, from nape where it lies,

I shall touch your cheek, of sweet peaches & cream,

I´ll sup your kisses of wine, running in red streams.

 

I shall stroke your round knee, so hazel-nut smooth,

The honey of your being, I´ll quaff from your grooves,

In autumn of our love, before the mist, snow & rain,

I´ll gather in my arms, all your grape, sheaf & grain.

TURNED:


What in heaven’s name has happened to me?

I´ve turned into that woman I didn´t want to be,

Of turned down mouth & droning voice of nag,

I peer into the mirror & all I see now, is the hag.

 

With turning of Luna, life rushed away so fast,

I´d left that young maiden, way back in the past,

That girl with the smile & the joyful light heart,

And I miss her so much, now that we are apart.

Wednesday 12 November 2014

CAULDRON OF SINS:


Into the old cauldron of sins, softly bubbling,

I throw & toss all misdeeds, now so troubling,

All of yesterday´s news & old passing years,

All harsh said words & those ill-wept tears.

 

Into the cauldron of sins, now heated, burning,

I discard problems & sad blues, so bad churning,

All regrets & old lovers, now no longer needed,

All those past voices & vices, not now heeded.

 

Into the cauldron of sins, where embers are lying,

I watch as my sins, within ashes, lie cool & dying,

All of my past gone deeds, now going up in smoke,

And as I turn to the moon, my new life I´ll invoke.

RURAL RANTINGS:


Oh how I love all those rantings, of idyll rural life,

Of all those country sounds, removing stress & strife,

Ducks quacking, hens clucking & old roosters crowing,

Geese hissing, & in the fields, contented cattle lowing.

 

And with the new sun rising, donkeys loudly braying,

Turkeys gobbling, cows mooing & old horses neighing,

Milk-maids singing, farmers yelling, tin pails clanging,

Milk & water into buckets splashing, old gate banging.

 

Chicks peeping, birds chirping, old sheep softly bleating,

Yellow cream & soft butter, thickening in clotted beating,

Pigs grunting, all beasts snuffling, snorting, softly munching,

Chewing hay, grass, eternal cud, in all manner of crunching.

 

Crows sitting upon scarecrow´s arms, cheeky in laugh & chirps,

Rumbling fat bellies & tummies, of ruminants snorts & burps,

And suddenly, night falls silently, within its black tired sleeping,

Then the lean red fox skulks, in his terrible sly & quiet creeping.

Tuesday 11 November 2014

JUST TALK GENTLY TO ME:


I don´t want from you, money & riches,

No gold, gem, nor raiment of rich stitches,

No feast of swine & fruit, on which to dine,

No goblet of thin crystal, to quaff fine wine,

Just talk gently to me.

 

I don´t want your raised voice & nasty word,

Just talk to me in voice of hills & breezy birds,

No ranting, yelling loud, nor blasphemous din,

No spitting spite, nor slapping to cheek or chin,

Just talk gently to me.

 

From me, you will get all the love in the world,

In the palm of your hand, my heart unfurled,

You´ll have my life, my soul & my very being,

You´ll have it all from me, can you not be seeing?

Just talk gently to me.

 

 

PATCHWORK:


So sublime is the patchwork quilt, of soft lying land,

Sewn in threads of grape & grain, all by human hand,

Cloth of silk, satin & velvet, spun by God´s given seed,

With loose cotton frayings, touched by errant weeds.

 

Fields separated, by beads of hedge & dew-kissed stone,

All coloured in rainbow´s hues, yet so very gently sewn,

Blanketed by passing clouds & all kissed by falling rain,

While sun´s voice serenades, the wooing growth of grain.

 

The squawking scarecrow guards the quilt of sustenance,

Beneath the lantern moon, in his dark & menacing stance,

Whist the Goddesses stitching fingers, never ever stops,

Bestowing upon her fruitful land, rich & harvested crops.