Magic
in the love dance,
yet his art could not grasp
her soft swells, her breath’s heat – against
his lips.
The artist
Month: November 2015
It was too late
A heaviness constricted his heart as he pushed and shoved against
swirls of people. Anonymous faces, vacant and blank stares left him
feeling the emptiness of crowds that followed blindly. He searched
desperately for that familiar face.
She was on the train
wistfully gazing at him,
wrenching a deep groan.
Love’s desolation
A pale moon guards the deserted house jealously.
Snowflakes scatter amongst shadows of skeletal trees,
padding the dim silence of shuttered windows and bolted doors.
Behind the walls, under a solitary desk lamp, tendrils of cigar smoke
curl towards the ceiling from a silhouette behind the desk.
Words fail him again.
Remnants of hidden love lie
Crumpled in the bin.
It is over
Let it go.
It will flow in tears,
but they end.
Feelings change,
when you face the truth,
that it is over.
It is……
It is a place that I had never been
It is a beauty that I had never seen
It is a value that I had never measured
It is a love that I had never treasured
It was the lesson learnt from my teacher
It was to see the full depth of each feature
It was to go back and search from within
It was to start with loving my own skin
It will be with sadness that I must move on
It will be discerning between right and wrong
It will be time to check against my new reflection
It will be time to stop looking for perfection
It is a time for being strong in my transitions
It is a year to make new binding decisions
It is an awakening from a dream to the real
It is a determining of exactly how I feel
Though the teaching methods were unusual
The student is filled with a sense of renewal
But sometimes the roles were reversed
When the teacher became the student first
The work of a teacher is never done
When one plus one equals one.
When the sun rises
When the sun rises with her new grace
And sends glimmers to light up your face,
May you be peaceful in your repose
Recalling all that none but us knows.
As the arterials flow with your warm blood,
Let sun help your rose form its new bud.
It is your smile that I so sorely miss,
It is the miracle of loving you like this.
Walking the edges of your dark shadows
Between past highs and brand new lows,
Let pendulum retrace its swing back to you,
Stroking your soul to feelings anew.
Should you awake still feeling weary,
Nest in my soft pillows until you can see clearly.
For like a babe suckling on its mother’s breast,
You’ll find true love and soothing soft rest.
Dream sweetly my love,until we again meet
Where I’ll be waiting, open arms to greet.
Haunted by your love
In creative genius a love story unfolds,
spilling the ink, devouring the sheet,
raising the rhythm, releasing the rhyme
of enraptured moments of our love sublime.
Forces unfathomable drew you to me.
Following in blindness, we both could not see,
except for the insatiable claim to fulfill need,
to explore the wonder of our souls to heed.
So I see apparitions through each door I turn.
Thoughts of times together, endlessly I yearn.
Draughts sweep through my window, spirit of you,
duping my senses, conjuring illusions to  view.
A cloud passes over and your phantom parades.
I  feel confused  by this game of charades.
Music starts to play and I stand up  to dance.
Then a cold breeze awakens me from my trance.
Your words invite me to follow your lead.
I slash with a knife and start to bleed.
What is this madness taken hold of me?
I thought I was blind but now I can see.
You’ve stolen my heart and I’ve stolen your mind
We’re in this together, our fingers entwined.
Walking down the other side
I’ve walked down the other side
with you,
seen the ghosts that haunt your mind.
You’ve walked down the other side
with me,
holding the mirror to the deep of my soul.
You took me places that no one else
had seen – you took me
places that I had never been.
We soon realised that it wasn’t safe
to be on the other side
Too much exposure and then it was suddenly over.
Once we returned we had to atone
for the pleasures of our sins,
and for letting our emotions creep  in.
Was it illusion or a taste of confusion I ask ?
When I reflect
I know that it’s a journey we both had to take.
So starting once again on a fresh slate,
the illusions turned into dreams,
the ones that move through your sleep.
But it’s clear to me that when the light
shines through my window,
Reality’s feet walk in,
filled with giggles and smiles.
But where would we be without dreams?
Surely a world filled with static
if dreams never saw the light of day,
if  children were never allowed to play?
But I do know it to be righteously so
that there are some dreams we must let go.
A toast to you
A toast to our anniversary!
two months ago today,
when we tied the knot
at our own alter made
of whispers sweet,
from lips soft and moist-
the beginning of Spring
with it’s new blossoms of promise.
Gone too soon with a dry
hot summer sun, sweltering,
melting, wilting our
freshly picked flowers.
Wish the rain would come
and not stand suspended in a
gathering cloud to fool me,
instead of soaking me wet.
In hope, I will not trust
because I’m not yet despairing.
I’d rather keep faith that
the new seeds will grow
even in arid conditions.
A time will come again
when the hint of drizzle
will swell into a deluge.
For how can it be called rain
when its sky does not meet the plain?
So my window stands open tonight,
hoping to catch the scent of your arrival
with the hint of refreshing vapours
and a promise that you will return.
Spring still flourishes in her abundance
seducing the air with fragrances rare.
But she longs for rain’s loving care
not droplets suspended in the air.
Yes, seasons and climates do change
and we must adapt – but never give up!
Chevvy's diary 