This Great Field

words. mostly…

I remember it quite clearly

Pale sun painting frosted fields

And you at peace, to sadness yields

So many, loved so dearly

Butterscotch sweets in kilner jars

Full house, late nights, your Sunday roast

Full ashtrays I recall the most

What was, now framed like painted flowers

And years go by, the memories stronger

Each twisted branch still skyward growing

The things you handed down not knowing

That they would linger, loving, longer

And so the sequels spring to life

A library of stories new

And every one because of you

Mother, grandma, sister, wife

When time runs short

words. mostly…

When silver threads creak with first frost

And summer thought in mists are lost

I wonder if you’ll count the cost

Or blindly hide from reason

When nights bleed into shortened days

And stars no longer light your way

So willingly you choose to stray

and blindly protest treason

No one to watch, no one to keep

Your candle burning while you sleep

And memories sink into the deep

Lost in the cold, dark freezing

Your stories ink washed from the page

And meekly without pain or rage

The curtain falls on empty stage

At closing of your season

Forever

Dirty. But if you read it out loud in a posh english voice it could almost be poetic I guess…

What once were endless summer days, and tender nights not counted

Sweetest whispers, love unbridled, days drift by embraced

And 69 more ways your soft pink flesh was nightly mounted

And your skin glowed with the blush of love’s seed spilled upon your face

The heart quickened, loins wet, thickened, hair pulled, lost souls intertwined

Gimp mask, red room, 12 inch pseudo love meat, I am yours and you are mine.

So spent, we lay in sheets soiled with the remnants of our love

we fit like trains into a tunnel, like large hand into small glove

And when no lube can dampen, when blue pills can not revive

Will we shuffle from this mortal coil, our passions still alive

Somewhere far beyond these night time stars that we once watched together,

Shall our memories drift slowly into inky black forever

________________________

Oh come on, it’s saturday, why not do something a little different.

The first 2 lines and the last two are kind of sweet I think.

Happy weekend you cheeky monkeys!

Passing

All a bit rhymey but meh, it’ll do

He watches from his window, rain like tears runs down it’s face

Petals fall as summer fades, once golden face now stark and bare

To this cold earth, beneath the sun, they seep into the earth

Beauty lost, like memories, life’s end to once bright birth

From green to gold and amber his life turns with passing seasons

All alone, he waits for something lost, his mind forgets the reasons

Of what was and is no more, faces blur as time slips by

And in a blink like flowers turn to dust, and skies do cry

They mourn for him, the things he once held dear, like him are lost

Like petals, cold, beneath the earth, embraced by winter’s frost

He slips away and fades from thought like breath in winter’s air

When flowers bloom once more nobody knows he is not there.

A limerick just for you. And you. And you, and you, and you.

Enjoy. Or don’t. But secretly do.

A vet from round our way quite smitten

By felines, especially kittens

He made two into hats

And a load into spats

Then the leftovers made into mittens

Stars

A kinda poem thingy but not about anything wholly inappropriate

I made for you a garden

From the stars I stole from cloudless skies

And deep within earth’s warm embrace

Sprung forth as tears streamed down your face

And quiet you sat in this place

And waited patiently

Each passing day under the skies

With hope, new shoots turned into bloom

And brightly shine when sunset falls

Until the light like beacon calls

These shards of nightfall, heart enthrals

From shadows setting free

And with the seasons turning, living

Pass full circle, gold to green

Hearts warmed by light unwavering

And beauty bright, sweet savouring

Sweet tears of heaven favouring

Forever comforts thee

Each day

Think this could have been better but I need to get the eldest out of bed and go to the tip…Happy Monday!

I tore the pages from the book

that holds the story of our lives

of darker times that might have been

and in their place I wrote these words

my promises to you.

Not to forget each day to live

and love and laugh and treasures mine

to hold most dear and know their worth

and thanks with grateful heart I give

all that I have to you.

When sunset paints with flames of red

the words we wrote on pristine page

We loved though time will pass us by

as stories gather dust upon

life’s shelf where now we lay.

Time and time again, no more

Words and more words and more words still…

Silver wisps of memories

The things that once so brightly shone

Now gone but one alone remains

Which fight the pull of time, refrains

From slipping through soft fingers

Clasped in prayer, in silence lingers

On that vision of her beauty, sweet

Her countenance so kind and meek

And one last time her forehead kisses

Always misses all they were and sunset burns

Like furnace flames

He smiles

And says goodbye

June

Words and more words and more words still…

Time steals the sweetest memories

Those moments where we wished that she’d

Halt in her tracks and carve emotions into stone

Forever monuments to love

Where, in later days we’d celebrate

That which was and now still is

But cruel she marches unrelenting

And halo slips, becomes a noose around the neck

As envy’s eye looks greedily on summers long ago

These barren lands, unfertile soil where only sadness grow

And dreams they whither on the vine as winter steals

The very breath that spoke you name

These lips once red now bare the pale of death’s caress

Eyes closed I fall to his embrace

and beg he take these memories

And cast them into the abyss

Sunset

Words and more words and more words still…

Memories in monochrome, sweet youth now seems so far away

and slowly memories ebb and flow, sandcastles crumbling in the tide

And walls fall down she cannot hide

Heart’s windows closed, doors locked, inside

She waits, so frail, her mind to long lost days does stray

Remembering, those rainbow days

Grey swept away, bright lights so shine

And lovers limbs do sweet entwine

Once more taste embrace divine

And hand in hand he finds her there in summer’s perfumed haze.

And so he leads her, barefoot, laughing, youth restored

Down paths familiar painted through the years

In love and joy, devoid of fears

And through the door, there no more tears

At last she rests, home, much loved and adored

I do love me a limerick as you know…

Shall we? It involves body parts and a selection of greases

A stammering tart  from Calcutta

Rubbed her bottom with handfuls of butter

Smeared oils on her tum

Grease upon her front bum

“Ch-Ch-Cheaper than lube”, she would stutter