December 28, 2013

 

 

He longed for his sweet Melissa

who lived across the pond.

They had met on a train journey,

and immediately formed a bond.

 

By the time his journey terminated,

for many hours, they’d been confined.

Hers carried on to the airport,

but by then, she was stuck in his mind.

 

By the time of their separate,

his composure, he’d had to restrain.

He mentally tracked her footsteps,

and felt insurmountable pain.

 

What attracted him to Melissa,

he could never quite understand.

From the second they’d started talking,

his emotions had got out of hand.

 

They knew so little about each other.

Their personal life wasn’t even discussed.

They seemed alone in a whole new universe.

A sudden connection, with full force thrust.

 

He had stood to leave the compartment,

and lifted his bag, with a heartfelt sigh,

before turning back and saying to Melissa

‘I hope that this isn’t a final goodbye?

 

Her smouldering eyes had then looked at him,

and she gave a smile he would never forget.

before silently handing him her business card,

hoping her actions, she wouldn’t live to regret!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once the tip

has been revealed,

no longer will

the rest stay concealed.

 

You can press it down,

and it might stay there,

but it will reappear,

once it’s smelt the air.

 

That’s when it becomes

a tour de force.

A battle royale,

a one way course.

 

A strength of wills,

with such magnitude,

that you’ll soon realise,

you’re as good as stewed.

 

 

 

 

 

Beyond today

and temptations urge,

lies undiscovered,

a bubbling surge.

 

Waiting to trap us

or catch us off guard,

as silent as snowfall,

yet like titanium, so hard.

 

It isn’t in a hurry;

time matters not.

In a queue it will sit,

until available, the slot.

 

But don’t underestimate,

the power that it holds.

Beneath it’s surface,

are many hidden folds.

 

Some may choose to ignore it,

or simply cast it aside.

Is the ride worth the risk?

It’s for each to decide.

 

 

December 26, 2013

 

 

I miss your eccentricities

that endeared you to all classes.

And your peculiarities,

even more now as time passes.

 

Your protective way, so unconditional,

and basic values, held steadfast.

Your bloody minded stubbornness,

and rages that came forth with full blast.

 

I miss your way of always knowing,

exactly how to struggle through.

Your bravery in all things,

and dogged determination too.

 

Your strength through life’s adversities,

your nervousness, never on view.

I miss your loyalty, there, I’ve said it.

Oh damn and blast – and you.

 

 

 

 

 

So cruel and how,

the punishment unjust.

Now scarred from burns,

alas, the price of lust.

 

A lonely moment

needing to be loved.

When from pillow to post

one has been shoved.

 

When all around are folks

appearing so self absorbed.

Never seeing the writing,

that on the wall, is daubed.

 

In bold letters tall,

illuminated by the moon,

pleading; feel me, touch me,

and could you make it soon.

 

Make sense the madness

going around my head.

I too have needs,

I don’t just supply the bread.

 

Not often, true,

but sometimes I bleed.

A throbbing self doubt,

that does on weakness feed.

 

An isolated emptiness,

whilst stood amongst my own.

I watch you all so enthralled,

yet, feel to you, I am unknown.

 

Some days an uphill grind.

A treadmill I can’t control.

My insecurity exacerbating;

the dread of being on the dole.

 

 All this, and more I handle,

acting out life, as if a breeze.

If only now and then,

You’d give me a loving squeeze.

 

Or hold my hand when walking,

like when we danced and twirled.

And you love me, as you once did,

and let me back inside your world.

 

 

 

 

A place in the mind,

that appears again and again.

An adrenalin rush

that gets lodged in the brain.

It once happened as I wandered

down Old Park Lane.

Forever, that moment, was to remain.

 

 

 

 

A scratchy itch.

A silent twitch.

An unwelcome lodger,

looking for a new pitch.

 

 

 

 

 

The echo of hell

from the wishing well.

Where ten fathoms deep

old Percival fell.

 

So eager was he

that his wish be heard,

he bent over too far,

and ‘help’ was his last word.

 

 

 

 

 

A chink in the armour;

an exposed nerve.

Yet, knowing instinctively

which way to swerve.

 

Always ducking and diving,

towards the right direction.

You knew the path to take,

and saw it through to perfection.

 

And in the end, when job done,

and you knew you’d achieved.

Your modesty and coyness,

could hardly be believed.

 

The route that you chose,

was not always mainstream.

But you continued to deliver,

and fulfilled your every dream.

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

Concerned about

their blocked up sink,

that is slow to empty,

and has a stink.

 

She awoke not having

slept, but a wink,

knowing again he’d scratch

his head and think.

 

Like yesterday, when he said

‘you need a plunger’.

Then just wandered off,

as if one, she could conjure

 

miraculously, out of the blue,

like some super magician  –

His lazed remark,

causing much contrition!

 

 

So before more pearls of wisdom

he could offer today.

She rang the plumber,

who said ‘he was on his way’.

 

 

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