February 28, 2014

 

 

Her nail-bed repairing;

nail varnish she’s wearing,

and now for the right reasons,

folks at her hands staring.

 

 

 

 

February 19, 2014

 

 

How refreshing is ‘dry’ January,

with no sluggish starts to the day,

as we recover from the party season

by keeping excess at bay.

 

The body begins to repair itself,

and the bloated look leaves our cheeks,

now the wine that seemed so essential,

is out of sight for four weeks.

 

And for a time, only still water,

flowing fast through each vein.

No dreaded trips to the bottle bank

and being caught in the pouring rain.

 

A chance to reflect in all seriousness,

what the lack of consumption makes,

to our mood and general demeanour;

no ‘morning after’ headaches or shakes.

 

And although February starts off cautiously,

with good intent to stay dry and have none

all too soon arrives good old Valentines Day,

when glasses clink and the game is back on. 

 

 

 

 

 

February 16, 2014

 

 

When in a confused frame of mind

where no solution is there to find,

and all the options on hope rest,

don’t ever settle for second best.

 

 

 

The power of proof;

the coming clean.

The attacking force

of the rogue gene.

 

 

 

 

I see his point.

I hear his plea.

Too late, alas

for me to move the sea.

 

I know it was right

what he instilled in me.

Sometimes the mighty truth

takes a lifetime to see.

 

 

 

February 9, 2014

 

 

Sturdy winter pansies,

smiling through the snow.

Surviving February’s treachery,

their faces all aglow.

 

 

 

 

 

Take one gram of imagination,

and two grams of inspiration,

then mix together rampantly

with a few drops of perspiration.

 

Now set aside for an hours duration,

using the time for deserved relaxation,

whilst counting your many blessings,

to spread on top, as divine decoration.

 

 

 

February 4, 2014

 

When all reasoning leaves the alcove space,

and flees for cover to loves warm embrace.

All too late, melting footsteps to trace;

time to finally accept, a mirrored face.

 

 

To strike a blow

at ones achilles heal,

shows lack of tact

and very little zeal.

 

So of it the victim

mustn’t make a meal,

but instead gather strength,

and all hurt conceal.

 

 

January 29, 2014

 

 

 

They dangle and they tantalise,

and sparkle as we fantasise.

But when night-time falls we realise,

our dreams may never crystallise.

 

For in this game of lows and highs,

we are no longer taken, by surprise.

We must trust that only sense applies,

and truth will come without compromise.

 

 

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