Stiff fingers and
Tight words.
You wanted to write about
Hot and bleached and sea
But you’re back to
Cranking out the same
Old;
Disappointment and a
Skinful of lies.
Love
One fine day
Wish it always like this;
Morning fresh
Skies from heaven and
The scent of roses
Round the door
Finish line
looking back at
where you started
can sometimes show you
just
how far you’ve come
even if the end
isn’t yet in sight
Thunderstruck
I’m not sure
Which is more
Magnificent;
The rolling
Thunderstorm
Outside
Or your
Epic snoring
Right next
To my
Right ear
Strong
There are horrors
That you do not see.
The child with bruises
Crying quietly.
The falsely accused
Trying to break free.
The woman shaking
With uncertainty.
You spread fear with your bombs
And terrorist songs.
But people battle every day,
And fear won’t scare their
Lives away
At Sissinghurst
A love affair like
No other,
Rooted deep.
Formal gardens and
An unformal romance.
The roses are nearly
In bloom.
They were her favourite,
And his.
Hers too.
When you know you’re best friends
You’re visiting and
it’s like we saw each other
just the other day…
