Yes
you were tethered to this place
strong chains bound you here and
people stopped to point and mock
but we all of us have our shackles
so when you made that final pull
and ripped them sharply away
did you have to leave such a deep scar?
such a chasm in our world
when you flew away and left us
with our chains’ weight doubled
Did you?
Watch it
as it gradually forms
there the corner of your eye
and sparkling slowly grows from nothing
then tumbles down your cheek
a little bead of silver
follow as it cascades
off your chin
watch it
I want nothing more than to grip your hand
and stare across the harbour at the other side
as the sun goes down beneath the inky hills
the hustle and bustle behind us finally
I want nothing more than to sit with you
while you work intently by electric lights
as the night envelops us in this little room
our private island of calm and concentration
I want nothing more than to hold you close
and shield you from the midnight terrors
as the witching hour approaches and then flies
a warm and impregnable fortress of blankets
Selfish, I know…
A romantic heart is my affliction
the poets blood within my veins
pumps a little faster when I see you
it quickens and fills me with warmth
And I fall deep
Often this has been my misfortune
to have the heart so willing in my chest
thumping out the sweet infatuation
my face reddened and my hands weak
And I fall deep
For when I am enamoured and besotted
often other hearts beat counter-wise
and what may seem to be a common rhythm
was simply an error in the reading
And I fall
Do not writhe away from it
or resist and push against it
Do not mock it in fright
or recoil or fight it
Do not pretend it’s painful
or spit in the face of it
It is yours…
Take it gently by the hand
but make your grip firm
Look it straight in the eye
and make peace with it
Embrace it and most importantly
relax in to its warm sanctuary
It is yours…
It started as a chill
beneath the covers
which I had drawn tight
and filled with warmth
The hour was not apparent
some time in the eerie
small dark haunted hours
when even cats choose rest
In shock I was awoken
by the creeping ice breath
and clearing my drowsy lids
was drawn to the foot of the bed
Where I saw him
It ended with confusion
and a racing heart-beat
eyes wide open
the ghostly figure stealing sleep
Drop another quarter weight on
it makes no difference to me
you wouldn’t be the first to do it
to rely on my better nature
my lack of complaint
Add some more things to the pile
whatever you can find will do
you know everyone has a limit
but you haven’t found mine yet
my boiling point
Pluck a bit more at that sad old song
as though someone was listening
you know i’ve heard it before
that mournful self pity
yours, not mine
What is this sweet intoxication?
travelling in the hot evening air
laced with spice and the scent of bare skin
the radiant warmth of cobble stones
Is it the heady smell of citrus?
drifting from windows all clad in blue
overture to the foreign chatter
the streets awake as the twilight falls
Did you smell my infatuation?
as you lead me down those narrow stairs
a smokey room with beaded curtains
mint tea and the sense of adventure
Would that fragrant perfume still linger?
in the gaudy fabric of the place
I doubt that it would stimulate me
quite as much as when we stole away
and still his body calls
his bones do yearn
for sacred rest
in native soil
It is so very tranquil here
in the shadow of these great trees
laden with sweet cherry blossom
and a chorus of native birds
I can tread the footsteps to you
with no guidance or direction
between the fine hewn granite stones
your name etched in permanent white
Every time I am drawn to it
I the magnetic supplicant
hide brimming eyes behind glasses
wonder whether you are watching
and whether you’d be proud of me today…
LVX CREARE 