Relationships

You

All that you are

is an addition,

a simple bonus

that’s nowhere

near simple.

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Good Night

Who are you to know

the insides of me?

Why should you see

the thoughts that filter through?

You’re nothing but

a passing moment.

Already prepared

with a goodbye speech,

how the night was fun,

but now the sun has risen.

Essence

To the moon,
to the stars,
to the sun,
to the earth.

We feel, we fight.
We love, we hurt.
We heal, we learn.

We make a mark,
unique to the soul.
Blessing those we touch,
with our laughter and our life.

Rising with our hopes,
falling with our demons,
believing with our faith,
embracing all we can.

With laughter, with smiles,
we say goodbye,
with memories made well,
and legacies that live on.

To the moon,
to the stars,
to the sun,
to the earth.

Empty

Slightly burnt, with crusts a little too thick. 

The last of the butter, evenly spread.

A little sweeter, perhaps? Too bland otherwise. 

Is there anything left in the cupboard? 

Jam, marmite, lemoncurd?

Maybe the marmite. 

Some will hate but others will love. 

They’ll say the taste is too strong. 

Lingers. 

They’ll have their opinions. They’ll say. 

But still they will take, despite their talk. 

And when there’s nothing left, they’ll move onto the next,

leaving nothing but a few crumbs and an empty shelf. 

couple at sunset by the sea

A poem from 2009

I’m asking you for answers,
But I know I’ll just get nothing,
I don’t know why I bother,
Thinking you’re the man of the hour.

I remember the days,
Where we laughed and played.
It was simpler, easier back then,
When we didn’t have the pressure.

Fairytales and fantasies,
Were the thoughts that I had.
None of this about the future,
It was all about the here and now.

Free willed and fun loving,
It made the times so easy.
I miss the days of you and me.
I miss the days of worriless dew.

Why can’t we just go back,
And forget this burning pain?
Ignore the tears that fall,
Licking the wounds that remain.

Back to the days of hope,
The days of smiles,
The days of dreams.

Kirk Douglas - Big Trees - 1952

The games we play 

You smiled.

Laughed a little.

He had a cheeky glint.

You moved closer.

You were taking the lead.

He sat up. Took note.

He’d seen.

Your eyes land on him.

Your gaze check him out.

Up, down. Linger on the face.

The lips, the smile.

You found your target.

He knew.

He was playing you.

You let him lean in.

Let him move your hair,

to whisper in your ear.

He said the right things.

He was interested.

You knew.

You were playing him.