October 11, 2013

 

 

When the waves

on the shoreline

cease to exist,

and gone forever is

the morning mist-

I’ll still be loving you.

 

When the pyramids

collapse that are

older than time,

and church bells

never again do chime-

I’ll still be loving you.

 

When each year

the Christmas season

begins in December,

and the build up to it

no longer starts in September-

I’ll still be loving you.

 

When stores have sold all the

sofa’s, that in the world,

are for sale,

and every footballer is

as good as Gareth Bale-

I’ll still be loving you.

 

When men replace

the seat, along with

the toilet lid,

and women discover the

remote, from where it is hid-

I’ll still be loving you.

 

When I’ve taken leave

of my senses, and flown

to a paradise Isle,

with waves on the shoreline

making me smile-

I’ll still be loving you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 6, 2013

 

 

Explore the options –

Do you contain the guilt?

Or reveal your hand and

destroy the trust you’ve built.

 

 

 

October 5, 2013

 

 

No two weeks are the same,

so ride with the tide,

give it your best shot,

and do it with pride.

 

No two geeks are the same,

so in neither confide,

just stick to your plan

for the long term ride.

 

No two leeks are the same,

but are very tasty fried,

with bacon and mushrooms

and crusty bread on the side.

 

No two peaks are the same,

but after the highs have died,

are the lows to be dealt with,

as joy starts to subside.

 

No two cheeks are the same,

but when kisses are applied,

the heart swells with passion,

and all sad tears are dried.

 

 

October 2, 2013

 

 

She had never known the likes

of that wild bucking steer.

He was out to win her heart,

but only filled her with fear.

 

She didn’t approve of him,

she made that clear.

He adored himself,

and drank too much beer.

 

He invited her to the Rodeo.

He was handsome and slim.

He began to tickle her fancy –

said his name was Texas Jim.

 

He promised to behave,

so she let down her guard.

But as day turned into night,

she saw through his façade.

 

So with unfinished business

the order of the day,

she turned her back

and sent him away.

 

But she couldn’t forget him,

his voice rang out in her ear.

Every face she saw,

was his, coming near.

 

Then quite out of the blue,

he came back to see her.

Drat the persistence of

that wild bucking steer!

 

She never spoke of him

from that day to this,

but never forgot his

last, lingering kiss.

 

And even now, in her dotage,

sat in her old rocking chair,

she stares at the night stillness

and pictures him there.

 

She knew him only briefly,

but is still moved to tears.

when wondering what became

of her wild bucking steer. 

 

September 27, 2013

 

 

She’ll give me grief,

and deny me food,

for no reason at all,

if she’s in that mood.

 

She’ll read my mind,

and will not flinch,

unless I take a yard,

when she gives an inch.

 

She’ll go berserk,

and lock me out.

She’ll twist her face,

like a dying trout.

 

She’ll rant and rave,

like a woman possessed,

even though my innocence,

I will protest.

 

She’ll string me up,

and whip me hard,

and from her house,

I will be barred.

 

She’ll raise the roof.

She’ll give me hell.

I’ll need the protection

of a padded cell.

 

She’ll send me packing.

She’ll show me the door,

even though I plead,

and say her, I adore.

 

She’ll sit and stew.

and sulk a while.

She’ll avoid eye contact,

in case we smile.

 

She’ll come around in time,

with the releasing of a weight.

That vixen of a woman

keeps me, on the straight.

 

She’ll soften up and melt,

like butter in the sun,

and it’s well worth the wait,

for a hug, from honey bun.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He looked her up.

He got in touch.

He crossed his fingers.

He hoped for luck.

 

He opened wounds.

He touched raw nerves.

He shed real tears.

He showed he cared.

 

He exposed his heart.

He bared his soul.

He knew once more,

He had lost control.

 

He fantasised

He knocked on wood.

He became wide eyed.

He misunderstood.

 

He walked away.

He now realised why,

He would never return.

He waved a last goodbye.

 

 

September 24, 2013

 

 

To make of this

a stolen kiss.

A world within

a world of bliss.

 

To magnify,

to multiply.

To think more of

what it could imply?

 

To make of this

a serpent’s hiss.

Sugar coated venom,

a sure near miss?

 

To qualify,

to justify.

To stand alone

and testify.

 

To make of this

a random whim.

A step too far,

too near to him?

 

To contemplate,

to tempt old fate.

To cross the line

and complicate.

 

To make of this

and nothing more

a barrel of trouble

waiting in store?

 

To southward turn,

to no more yearn.

To break free now,

and bridges burn.

 

To make of this

a planted seed.

A dormant pod

never to succeed?

 

Too sad to see

two tears that flow.

To know in truth

love can never grow?

 

To make of this

a stolen kiss.

A world within

a world of bliss.

 

To pull apart,

to quietly depart.

To self protect

a breaking heart?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are places to put it

that are dry.

Places that won’t catch

a tomcats eye.

Places were it only will

be seen,

for whom it is meant

and will stay clean.

 

There are places to put it

if you try.

Places not too low

and not too high.

Places where there are

unwritten laws,

for feathered friends

away from feline jaws.

 

 

September 21, 2013

 

 

It was the final button

in a row of many,

that disguised the modesty

of sweet, young Penny.

 

It was the undone zip

of her tunic slip,

that caused her chastity

to take a dip.

 

It was the final closure

of a parental cloak,

that released dear Penny

from her loving folk.

 

 

 

 

In every word of sentiment,

a testament of heaven spent.

 

In every thought of anger sent,

a detachment from good intent.

 

In every dream he did invent,

a flawed fragment of sediment

 

In every wish that he never went,

a sleepless night of discontent.

 

 

 

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