Tag: Poetry
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The Son
That could have been my son I could have been his dad A child lying fast asleep Snatched too soon from my hands
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The Answer Lies In Between
I wish I could be open to another Without pain or fear or rejection And for it to be always the flow Of two rivers making an ocean Let me be the last to be vulnerable I’d rather you found out about me Without me revealing anything And keep that secret in its place. Yet…
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Love Left Alone
If I catch and keep love It is no love at all Such love dies in my grasp Leaving dust in its wake. Maybe I should leave love go In that hope and with that faith That it might return to me As selfish as that may be Perhaps I should let flow My love…
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A Bubble’s Lifework
Children near me laughing and chasing, Watching and waiting, taking turns carelessly Blowing bubbles, see them floating, Jumping and leaping, hands grabbing joyfully. But one bauble is an escapee, Under the spell of an invisible wand, It winks and smiles at me, And settles unbidden in my hand. A perfect sphere, glass and silver A crystal…
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Let Love
Love when your outstretched hands wake you. Love till your eyelids gently call you to sleep. Let love master you and you be in thrall to love. For love will free you what would thwart love. Love calls from the sunset through the twilight Love dwells in the dark and calls to the light Love sinks…
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Rainbows
I was told to see in black and white Then advised to look for shades of grey But that closed my eyes to the light And the teeming colour of the day So not seeing colour or shade Meant I saw nothing at all I then waited for dark to fade To open my eyes to…
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Winter’s Past
Now that winter’s last touch is gone, And springs new day nearly here, I can lose my robe of grief, And face all of life once more.
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We Both Must Live
I turn and see your face, You are not there. I call to you for an embrace, Only cold is here. I wake in the dark to you, And hear your voice, For that moment I heard you There is only silence. I hear footsteps that echo, In my mind from the past, Shadows on…
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Winter’s Passing
This morning’s dawn that faded fast Is the twilight of a season past And today’s sunset is itself a dawn That points to a season reborn Cold is that season with no light. And me that slept in it. Now the short day and long night Has passed and me with it.
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Someone Who Knew
You’ve either been there Or knew I’ve been here Though you’ve seen from a distance Somehow you’ve discerned a cadence How could you possibly know Those stormy waves that ebb and flow In spite of fear so rife Are just tides of daily life I never whispered aloud My dread of a falling cloud Yet…
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The Fifth Love
Of a morning, I’m woken up by the song Higher Love by Steve Winwood. And not every morning, I ask myself, “What is this song really about?””Where is this higher love he keeps thinking of anyway?” Perhaps this higher love might be one of C. S. Lewis‘s The Four Loves: Storge: Love experienced by and for family members,…