Wednesday, December 30, 2009

an angel's breath

breathe the breath that angels share
on balmy summer nights
as they dance through silver fronds
while chasing pure delights

and feel their touch as they enlace
their magic through your mind
to softly falling water drops
that open your eyes blind

to rainbows in the glowing dark
of streetlights that you guide
through a world of wonder filled
with joy that grows inside

they touch the ones whose hearts allow
the mysteries in their soul
and fill with glee the seeking hearts
that through the moonlight stroll

Saturday, December 26, 2009

the echoes of the wind

my heart is drenched in tears and sorrow
it’s so dark, so dark this morrow
limbs worn out and run aground
my voice now hoarse, a strangled sound
and i approach the misty waves
over rocks, past haunted caves
as i hear echoes in the wind
chanting tales of that i’ve sinned

i now surrender all to you
i bow my head, i bid adieu
as i draw near the dark abyss
i blow to you a final kiss
when from the distance comes the call
calling me, a creature small
and so i sink in waters deep
my soul to rest, eternal sleep

Monday, December 21, 2009

of fairy dust and fireflies

i long for the first rays of silvery light
their touch the bearer of calm
that stills the storm winds with silent caress
and cools the earth with its balm

of fairy dust, fireflies, whispering breeze
refreshes the soul, rousing hope
with tender appeal the impulses stir
cool fingers that let you elope

into the blue of the midnight sun
with mischievous winking eyes
spurring you on down the long road that leads
to the oceanside where we rise

to meet the desires born in our hearts
our cherished enchanted dream
and frolic in gurgling waves that roll
forever, or so it may seem…

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

a winters song

caught up in this wintry state
splayed across an icy slate
snowflakes whisper rhythmic tune
numb the skin, the heart immune
black unfeeling eyes that stare
a soul that’s hollow and threadbare
swallowed by a dark vacuum
resting in this frozen tomb

Monday, December 14, 2009

follow the stars

live your dreams
and dream unrestrained,
let pleasure flow through your soul;
follow the stars
wherever they lead,
‘til love your heart captures, whole.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

reclaim the dreams

divided souls in gullies deep
bound by mem’ries as they leap
through the rubble wrought by pride
stubborn minds at war collide
and thunder strikes while lightning tears
breaking through barbwire snares
a seemingly unending storm
purges deep until reform
dries the tears, awakens need
to reclaim the dreams buried
past the haunting yesterdays
taking hands, their eyes they raise

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

a cloak unfolds

a shift in the clouds and a cloak unfolds
rich velvet black the established remoulds
pinpricks of light the darkness through peers
forming a beam that enraptures and steers
towards timeless travel in worlds yet unseen
frees the mundane and reveals the pristine
self that’s within, that you’ve hidden away
caught up in ties of old guilt and dismay
now bask in the presence of grace and accept
freedom from sins that away have been swept


Tuesday, December 8, 2009

pursue the dream

my soul sings a song
that flows on the breeze
in waves that reach the stars;
for peace is bestowed
on those who pursue
a dream to erase the scars.

Friday, December 4, 2009

55 - the aura of love

with these eyes i plainly see
words you choose to hide from me
as i feel waves roll from your heart
when emotions through you dart
and my cheeks feel wet with tears
when you’re faced with dark frontiers
so rest yourself in my aura of love
and soak in the soothing light from above

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Thursday, December 3, 2009

elusive silence

it is clear as melting snow from untouched glaciers up north, it’s my daily sustenance, helps me take each day, go forth. it’s a diet that i read, that i take in every day, i can feel the power it brings, gently guides and leads the way.

yet this dawn has brought confusion, as the desert winds that chafe, wear away without me seeing, leave a weathered wretched waif. who can not force to submission, this irrational mindset, this absurd rebelliousness, suited to a child upset.

and i creep into a corner, thick with dust and shrivelled flies, with a large sign that says ‘go!’, while the meaning sure belies, a responsible intention to depart from this here place, take the truths that i have learnt, try to slow this hectic pace.

it’s the noise inside my head, it’s too loud for me to hear, words of sense you to me utter, they distort and at me leer. i need solitude to find, silence that’s eluding me, let the stead’ly ticking clock, take me to still scenery.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

see inside...

impulse dictates
you search for dreams
at the end of the highway far,
when all you need
is to look inside
the chambers of your heart.

Friday, November 27, 2009

55 - time to say goodbye

this is the end,
our last goodbye.
two lovers stand
at the great divide.
bonds that have withered
through careless neglect,
sorrow is deep,
two souls shipwrecked.
dreams didn’t last,
too late to retrieve;
distances vast,
too late for reprieve.
you’ll still fill my dreams
on lonely dark nights,
'til gracious moonbeams
our future rewrites.

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

trust in me

it was by the muted candlelight
that i looked at you with new eyes,
the hair’s casual fall into your face,
shielding you from the pressures of life.
your lips so soft, gently curled in a smile
to an echo you solely could hear,
your skin with the etches of time displayed,
though to me this is but a veneer.

i’m engulfed by an urge to open this book
of thoughts that you keep deep inside,
to hear those whispers only you can hear,
to be filled by the dreams that your hide.
to see the sketches you keep concealed
as you say when they happen, i’ll know,
but i’d much prefer to support the idea
than be offered the finished rainbow.

i’d like to be there when the timeline extends,
maybe offer my love and my thoughts.
achievement is something that you measure by
yet the forming’s what gets me caught.
the range of your vision, the style of design
is what makes you who lies beside me,
give me a piece, just a crumb at a time,
please believe, when i say, trust in me…

Monday, November 23, 2009

a lost memory

she’s a girl, she was nine, on a lone silent street, where the sea and the desert sands mingle and meet. up ahead the waves break to a foaming white hiss, while welwitschia’s stretch and the desert sands kiss.

and she watches the fog sinking down in a veil, while the strange scent of sea salt her senses assail. she is cloaked in a shroud of cold dampened sound, amongst buildings deserted, all the doorways closed down.

isolated, alone, she is standing dead still, small and unnoticed under seagulls cries shrill. the memories swoop down as i knew her back then, a stranger ‘mongst friends, out of sight and unseen.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

when angels cry

sculpted into
archetypal mold,
curtailed, ere we even start;
filling our souls
with angel’s tears
as we bear captivity's mark.

Friday, November 20, 2009

55 - this is goodbye

the party has come to spectacular end
every last word irrevocably penned
the final chord wrung from the broken guitar
shattered the dreams in a threadbare boudoir

and the crumbs that remain a painful eyesore
of glittering times before the outpour
as emptiness fills the once loving space
time from the memories yourself to unlace

i originally titled this 'memories unlaced' but i think it misleads from its intended meaning... thus i've renamed it...

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Monday, November 16, 2009

lost to the sea

we leave but a fleeting
sense of our touch,
as we pass through this world on a breeze;
as ocean waves stroke
the distant seashore,
our footprint is lost to the seas.


Friday, November 13, 2009

55 - life on a prayer

picture yourself adrift on that cloud
of cottonwool high in the sky,
under warm breezes of angels wings
as round you they flitter and fly.
chants being sung by heaven’s choir,
their notes hang like mist in the air,
a solitary soul in the lap of the gods,
the beauty of life on a prayer.

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

melodious dreams

the gentle waves lapping, as dusk settles in,
murmur sweet comforting words,
caressing the tension from day-weary limbs
while steering the soul homewards;
and the wafting wind of scented twilight,
quietly clears the mind,
as moonlight reveals melodious dreams
that tenderly thoughts unwind.

Friday, November 6, 2009

55 - waves

just moments before
the full moon bursts forth
from behind storm clouds in the night,
the dark is the deepest
pit of despair,
that crushes you with its might.
then silver waves bathe you
in rays so intense
your spirit with heaven unites,
giving you strength
to from this deluge,
to rise and to alight.

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Monday, November 2, 2009

cry in the dark

i’m closing the door,
i’m walking away,
i’m leaving the past,
i’m out of the fray,
with battle wounds red,
my head held high,
i no longer stand
in the dark and cry,
while you tried to break me,
tried piercing my shell,
you damn well near managed
to place me in hell,
but now is my time
on a flight to embark,
i’m leaving this room
without windows, that’s dark.
too long now the bygones
have left me besmeared,
my story’s now written,
long pages, dog-eared,
with mem’ries that hurt,
i’ve placed them in words,
released me they have,
i now walk with songbirds.

i've written this poem for Janice over at My Diary, please go and say 'hallo' to her...

Sunday, October 25, 2009

in the divide

on the edge of a cusp between dark and light,
prevailing allure, this singular might,
breathe in the silence of oceans refrain,
whispering words, a hypnotic quatrain.

as the sun and the moon ride the earth astride,
perfectly balanced in the divide,
the centre that’s constant and defrays
plunging darkness and scorching rays.

Monday, October 19, 2009

a tattered soul

sinking, sinking, into a sludge
thick and murky, cruel to the touch
a struggle that’s left these limbs limp and weak
from the prevailing winds oblique
knocking and gnawing away at the walls
breaking into protected halls
filling the air with noxious gas
as i plunge into deep crevasse
where a darkened silence pervades
vision gets blurry then steadily fades
into a permanent state so jaded
a tattered soul exposed and naked

Friday, October 16, 2009

55 - hunting of desires

wild is the moody sky as temperamental winds fly into the great unknown looking for old sins. in the eyes a glint that says “do not mess with me. i am out to catch the tail of pleasures desperately” ...a hunger you can fill alone through the fearless hunting of desires to which you’re prone.

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

serenade of sorrow

i bow my head to the final note
as it drifts into darkening dusk,
while lingering in the air the scent
of your lips, sweet rose damask.
and the lines you traced on my body bare
when we danced on that moonlit hill,
tremble as the wistful breeze
envelops my presence still…

awash is the essence of defeat
in the passing of our time,
that sings a farewell to your absent soul
in the distance the bells start to chime.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

the rolling waves of sorrow

each raindrop from heaven
that falls reflects
the tears i feel in my heart
on bended knees
i beg a reprieve
from the onslaught they impart

and the winds that rage
and howl through the trees
bring sorrow in rolling waves
while sharpened edges
of the sword
the grief in my soul engraves

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

just an escape...

you’ll find her in a rambling old house, not too big, not too small, built of sandstone in nineteen hundred and four. it’s a house with scented floors that gently creak their welcome and keep you company as you pass through the rooms. here the walls are thick and solid to the touch, in shades of red wine and the green of the trees through the windows, these are wall that protect and that guard the secrets of the whispered words shared in their space. and as you wander through this warm, gentle home, your eyes will catch glints of crystal and silver amongst candles on scattered silk sheets of gold.

when the sun bows its head and the rays of the moon douse the earth, the scent of sweet jasmine tags along the night breeze through windows with gently billowing curtains. some nights all you’ll hear is the crackling of a fire to the turning of the pages of a book. she’ll be curled up in a huge wingback chair alongside the fireplace, whilst the soft snores of puppy dreams float in the air. and on other nights you will hear the strings of guitars telling of nights in paris or a love that’s been lost. these will mingle with cheerful chatter and the tingling of ice in glasses, almost the same pitch as the laughter that rings through the night. you may also be enticed by the scent of a meal, a simple feast, that inflames the senses to savour, to take your time and enjoy. and when the last stings of the guitar fade silently into the night, she will walk through the house and with a tender touch, arrange and close and blow out and store, as she puts her house to sleep…

in the morning she’ll rise to the rays from the east, freeing the pups into a forest of fragrant pines, into air so fresh, so pure and untouched, almost tangible as she deeply breathes it in. she will stretch her limbs awake through grassy and ferny trails to the songs of birds in treetops high. she may spot a deer at the gently bubbling brook that snakes its way though the gentle curves of the mountainside, or she may be the only one there.

her days have an unrushed list of to-do’s, she will follow the nudges of need. she’ll hum as the broom clears the dust off floorboards and she’ll talk to her furry friends while she drinks a cup of tea. she’ll feel the breath of fresh air through the open window at the sink, while the suds wash away the dirt. and in welcoming sunshine dappled through the trees, she’ll shape the garden that naturally grows, the blooms the ones nature placed in her care.

a scattering of faces may arrive unannounced, and be welcomed with barks and swishing tails, to depart further into their day after coffee or iced tea, sharing a thought, an opinion or two. she may call her pups and head down the road, not far, to the settlement down below. there she will fill her basket with fresh fruit, with cheeses, a bread or two. she will greet the shopkeepers by name, exchange a smile and a few words, pretending not to see the treats that are sneaked to the grinning faces with chocolate brown eyes.

it’s a place of few demands, filled with simplistic honesty and a solitude she desperately craves. here the need to speak disappears, and where thoughts and feelings reign. it's a place to build, re-charge and create, a temporary refuge, as it fuels the drive for words she writes late into the night. it’s a part of the world, not her own, yet it feels like home. the words that are spoken convey their meaning, though they may not sound familiar. it may not exist by the name that she calls it, but it surely is alive somewhere…

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

adrift in cold seas

how can random acts of kindness
bring me down onto my knees
bring forth flowing tears of sadness
‘tis not something i should feel
do i not deserve some shelter
helping hands or a kind word
why the thinking i’m not worthy
of these gentle words i heard…

maybe it’s the shroud of grey
the chill wind that tugs my hair
or the knowing in my heart
that we now no longer share
the sunrise that’s in the east
since we face opposing sides
have we passed the line that says
turn back now lest you divide

in these silent times i wonder
if you see the same reflection
that the rings in this here water
roll in conflicting direction
what’s the string that at this time
keeps us tethered here and bound
in the waves that keep it taut
‘stead of turning us around?

how i long for us together
in the same frame of the mind
with an openness between us
with our thoughts and limbs entwined
can we once again be free
of the darkness hanging over
are we meant to find the shores
and each other love and savour...

Friday, October 2, 2009

55 - dance

dance the song of sorrow
when your spirit weeps,
feel the lilt of sadness
as through you it seeps.
dance until you feel
the air beneath your feet,
‘til the walls withdraw
and the tears retreat.
escape into the senses
of an enchanting trance,
forget the tears of sorrow,
just dance and dance and dance…

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man!

Saturday, September 26, 2009

the house with dusty floorboards

In a house now deserted and devoid of life
there’s a man who can still hear
the silence around that cuts like a knife
into scars that left a tear.
And the ghost of a child stares back at him,
the child who lived here once.
with haunted eyes and a shameful grin,
now locked in eternal silence.
Yet as the spirit of that child
stared into his eyes,
he felt the soul, the emotions wild,
bow down to the spreading sunrise.
‘Til all that was left staring back at him
was the image of a grown man,
as the hunted past so dark and grim
left the seed of healing and ran.
Lifting a veil of questions and fears,
freeing the essence within,
giving him back the lost time of years,
without pain he could see where he’s been.
And he left the house with dusty floorboards,
heard the echoes fading away.
He was free at last to walk towards
a sunrise without debt to repay.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

tales of sorrow

can you hear the tales of sorrow
sung by the howling wind
hurtling through the trees toward
cliffs where they rescind
into the deafening silence locked
in a broken heart
can you feel the mournful wind
from this world depart

Sunday, September 20, 2009

the song in his heart

The accessories of his life,
chosen with care
and displayed with precision,
by him, the creator.
Chosen words uttered with confidence,
seemingly careless, they’re tossed to ears
willing to listen, willing to hear,
of that which he’s built,
what he’s achieved.
And he breathes in the envy,
the applause in their eyes,
which keeps him going
day after day, to do it again,
maintain the pretense
of this empty stature,
that’s taken up so many yesterdays.

Yet in moments unguarded,
shadows dart across those eyes,
unwelcome and unwanted.
The loss of a freedom
he’s taken to ignore,
that he’s managed to still,
but not forgotten.
The dreams of a child,
of a growing man,
when desires still fed his soul.

For now he’s torn
between the prestige
and the will of his own recklessness,
which only comes to him
when his head is at rest on his pillow
and his mind is free to lead him down roads,
where the doors are ajar and not closed
by his own restraint,
responsibilities weightless behind his shut eyes.

For as he stands, momentarily alone,
while the notes of the blues guitar
sings the song of his heart,
that takes him back to a simpler life,
to the start of his road
with his dream of fast cars,
the only luggage,
his beat-up guitar.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

child of the night

a child of the night, born to sorrow
ever longing for tomorrow
not ordained since shadows embrace
this golden orb's majestic grace
who sheds the tears of broken dreams
in the night on its moonbeams
to form a pearl as angels fly
down to you to keep you shy
of this lake of captured tears
so to you the joy adheres

Friday, September 11, 2009

55 - on the wings of fireflies

the moon through the curtains last night beckoned me
and urged me to go to the edge of the sea
to find my lost dreams on the sands where waves break
whisp’ring their secrets, removing heartbreak
and i feel my soul lift and float through the skies
towards those dunes on the wings of fireflies

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

velvet mist

though her heart is gently weeping
her eyes do not shed a tear
for the love they shared in living
echoes whispers she can hear
softly soothing as a touch
of his fingers on her skin
while the velvet mist enshrouds
keeping their love locked within
dreams she dreams with open eyes
where their souls can reunite
in a land beyond forever
under sparkling starry night

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

is your life a dream?

Do you sometimes feel
that your life is just a dream?
A very real daydream,
like the one you used to have
as a kid lying under a tree
in the backyard of your parents house?

When you dreamt about your life,
married to a handsome stranger,
sharing naked kisses in the darkness
under the rays of the full moon.
In a house that is your own,
where there is no need to heed
the clock that’s silent on the wall.

And in this dream you go to work,
confident, exuding trust,
and with self-assurance move
around your scope of influence,
while your quiet energy transfers
to the people that you touch.

And you wander in a store
without timetable or goal,
and the basket starts to fill
with just wants, so whimsical.
And you stand at the cashier,
on your lips there plays a smile,
as your mind’s already home,
a soft nuzzling at your neck
prompted by delightful scent.

Then it’s time to go to school
to collect your ‘little one’,
and you see the young eyes watching,
a touch of envy in their eyes,
as they see the grown-up, free,
in the red car without roof.
And their eyes become unfocused,
as you fade from what they see,
and it’s you who now becomes
a little part of their daydream

Every day could be like this
without boredom, without dread,
if you look at it through eyes
of your dreams realized instead.

Friday, September 4, 2009

55 - whispers in the wind

hear the whispers in the wind
hear the promises they bring
sighed by flick’ring candlelight
carried through star-studded night
to your guardian angel’s ear
he who knows the way is clear
to bestow on you the wishes
sung by souls in rhythmic verses
on the canvas of your dreams
hear them now around you stream…

every friday, compose a short story of 55 words - no more, no less. if you want to join in the fun and games and give it a your story and report to the boss G-Man!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

the wishes of the gods

In the dark hours of the night
you will find a silver ray,
reaching out to hold you tight
as it’s trying to convey,
through the whispers of the waves
and the breeze between the trees,
words that echo from the graves
with the wisdoms that you frees.

Lie back gently in the arms
of the gods, in mosses green,
as they shield from that which harms,
lead you to the paths pristine,
in a cloud of misty wishes
which absorbs into your skin,
as they take the heavy crosses,
with the dawn comes the begin.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

on air windblown

through shimmering clouds
she hears a whisper
a murmur calling her name
that reaches down
with soft white rays
brushes her skin and lays claim
to the chambers
of her heart
his essence rises through
the misty tendrils
caressing her soul
affirming his love as dew
touches her cheeks
with his tears
from a world that’s not her own
devotion endures
their love on air windblown

Tuesday, August 18, 2009


Around me the world collapses in chaos
to the deafening shouts of an incensed crowd.
Windows shatter from heat and from stones,
and hands are raised in angry fists and sticks that beat the air.
The streets fill with rubble and sandstone turns black
as hungry flames greedily lick up the walls.
The faces around me contorted with rage,
angry mouths shouting unintelligible words,
and I run with the noise for a place unknown
through a blur of people emitting pure hatred.
I finally find shelter in an abandoned building,
away from the acrid smoke of blazing fires
that burns my eyes and nose, so thick it blinds out the sun,
creating an illusion of the onset of dusk in a burning, angry red.
And I hear the screams of pain from the wounded
‘til my mind shuts it out and my world becomes a muted movie.
I huddle, I wait, in shock, disbelief,
of this madness I’ve witnessed this day.
Before my eyes, the known’s been destroyed,
into anarchy all has descended…

‘til I find a strength that’s not my own
and slowly rise to my feet.
I step through a hole that once was a wall
and I stare at the devastation the moving masses left behind.
A silence descends more eerie than screams
over a wasteland of complete destruction.
My eyes dart around, which way do i go,
in this dusk that’s unsettled,
in a smoke thick as mist?
I head through the ruins,
through wreckage and rubble,
towards the coming darkness
of the night,
the only way to escape…

Saturday, August 15, 2009


can you hear me
hear what i say
what i’m whispering in your ear
can you feel
the offering
my heart as soft as cashmere
there for you
an open door
to my lap of fantasies
let’s join in ways
as lovers do
fulfill our destinies

can you see me
that what i see
the visions of dreams inside
waiting for you
to enter in
and lie with me at hearthside
written by gods
of age-old days
a whispering touch in print
to loose ourselves
in sensual worlds
for you to leave your footprint