Month: May 2021

Situations come,
brimming with succulent things,
and makes mouths water.

Nothing comes my way,
at least that is how I feel,
I hope I am wrong.

Wind doesn’t settle,
restless like the clouds above,
it ‘s ever moving.

The earth’s spinning round,
creating vortecies,
that circle the world.

A crime of passion,
leaves a scarred and heavy heart,
that will never heal.

The coffee mug steams,
proud and hot it knows it’s worth,
for this moment now.

Do dragons exist?
I counter, “Do you believe?”
And open a book.

Thick heavy pages,
slow turn to show images,
that will make you stare.

The dark ancient text,
runic and scribbled in black,
and sometimes in red.

It appears to change,
there before ytour very eyes,
and almost makes sense.

Dare you speak these words?
Uttering verses of old.
and feeling them grow.

Try and try again,
then it tips and goes too far,
so you must proceed.

It is now unlocked,
and the page begins to spin,
drawing you inside.

I have made it through,
through the week and through Friday,
to a place of rest.

Is it really rest?
The thing pile up like mountains,
demanding I climb.

My music suffers,
the things to do and get done,
that’s no way for fun.

I have a offer,
a new job that looks quite good,
and wonder should I.

Choices are a plague,
on decisions and choosing,
but it’s good to try.

The fish is cooking,
more warming up with some chips,
not like I caught it.

So, why are you here?
I ‘m asking pointing at you,
trying to cause fear.

Ten broken crayons,
seem so many and varied,
though each one smaller.

The night cloaks the land,
and the east wind stirs the trees,
that sounds like the sea.

Never apologise,
if you think you’re in the right,
and when you are not.

He rattled the cage,
waiting for the beast to rage,
attacking the bars.

The spell check is on,
and so I have to check it,
and make sure it’s right.

The time’s slipping by,
some say that it is too shy,
to stop and say hi.

The seconds look back,
just for a nanosecond,
a slight blur in time.

The mobile has stopped.
it doesn’t move and is still,
it begins to ring.

So any road home,
will do on a winters night,
when it’s cold and dark.

The pencil leads on,
around the page in circles,
some call a scribble.

The tension’s rising,
and people are realising,
they own true passion.

The fog closes in,
like a veal of white or sin,
that conceals a crime.

The blood drips and drips,
from the pointing finger tips.
into a cold pool.

The sun came today,
and said it wanted to play,
and make shadows lay.

Finding the real truth,
will not take a old days sleuth,
just an open mind.

The water runs fast,
each drop thinks it is the last,
and so they push past.

The problem with cats,
are like the this and the thats,
who knows what they think.

The great snail derby,
got off to a real slow start,
with Dark Spark leading.

The words are waiting,
and they long to get dating,
in poems mating.

The nonsense is real,
it’s all around us just feel,
the joy of their fun.

I’ve lost count of time,
and the words no longer rhyme,
except the sublime.

I’m feeling my way,
through dark mental passageways,
places I can’t stay.

When the feeling’s gone,
on rocks where the sun had shone,
then I feel alone.

I’m spinning around,
there is nothing, not a sound,
until music’s found.

I’m stirring the mug,
watching the vortex forming,
and climbing the walls.

Sitting in darkness,
and I can feel the silence,
crawling on my skin.

A life is taken,
and those around are shaken,
so they’re awakened.

I found my music,
it was on my mobile phone, somewhere there hidden

It can be so strange,
just how simple things can be,
and how hard they are.

My head is hurting,
from this morning until now,
it’s a nagging pain.

Ive found the answer,
it’s music and M&Ms,
to help me work well.

There are other ways,
but they are very boring,
so let me have fun.

Execise is good,
and I try to do my part,
little by little.

Well Sunday lunchtime,
use to be late and special,
now it is just soup.

The way things do chnage,
some for good, like passing clouds,
others rooted well.

It was hard today,
the week took it out of me,
and now I need rest.

A sabbath for real,
just some shopping to be done,
and not alot more.

A song was written,
but I couldn’t find the tune,
but tried a few on.

There’s more to be done,
I enjoy it, and it’s fun,
when it does happen.

It has rained all day,
and we wonder where Spring is,
and hope for summer.

All songs need dressing,
naked it’s like a poem,
with a tune, dressed well.

Sleep will come easy,
I feel it in my eyes now,
and a heaviness.

I bounced through the day,
from one thing to another,
and that is Friday.

Was interrupted,
by a small raiding party,
that tried to distract.

Help came in tea cups,
okay, true, twas coffee mugs
by regular drops.

The guitar watched on,
it’s strings silent and ready,
to play any tune.

I got some good news,
a good opportuniy.
but it’s far away.

It is a Thursday,
so long with promises unkept,
of a close weekend.

I went for a walk,
and wet like a winters day,
but I needed it.

My life on the line,
close up and dirty like war,
without the bullets.

Bedtime came early,
well earlier than last night,
ad sleep came quickly.

The night came and went,
and dreams were in short supply,
just that sleepy warmth.