I wounder

She curls her hands toward her heart.

Her words are often a work of art.

As I gaze into her eyes I think of magic and lullabies.

I wounder if she knew, or if she told a lie.

All I know is this, her words are bliss.

Dedicated to Mrs Green. 

Finding Space

I need peace

To wait

To listen

To see what we have become

Honesty

Love

Truth

Let our thoughts be guided

Let our thought s be stead fast

History is our future

Our past is our present

Our present is our past

We walk, as we walk we see our hearts unfolding, our reactions busy with thoughts of all levels of us.

Around the corner, the decision has been made. Eyes narrow when certainty has prevailed.

Familiar places are romantic and harsh. Faces make them smile or frown depending on their circumstances.

To forget is a sad tale to be reminded is bliss. We are not alone.

Alone in our thoughts, walking through the streets and meadows, shops and social avenues listening and breathing not all is always what it seems.

The heroes are those who left behind a thought we still think today. 

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Listen

I need you to wait.
I am a bomb, I won't explode but I might.
I need your patience.
It is only you I long for.
Allow me to fight in your arms,
let me cry in your hands,
let me shout, scream panic, yern, rest in your body.
I need you to wait.
It is not your time.
I need you.
I am scared.
I am lost.
I am frightened.
You must be here to protect me, hold me, kiss me.
Your time will come but now I need you.

I love colours

spaces inbetween

Main Chair, screaming.
Sofa, ugly, uncomfortable.
Naked crawling figure toward window (lines)
Two bodies in bed.
Man holding, hanging corpse in each hand.