Only one space
Big enough to hold
Love I never gave
Into your arms
Endless arms
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Author Archives: aperture
Trio
Wanderlust
Takes me to wildest corners
Of intricate landsape
Innumerable explosions
Of spores, gills
Parasols of dew
They do not mind
How many they number
Two or thirty
The more the merrier
Shared essence of being
Though less gregarious
We humans seem
Bravest
The bravest
Most courageous one
On the face
Of the earth
The one who wakes
Their truest self
Does their best
To face humiliation
They think they are alone
Until someone -
Rather than dart away
stand opposed or
Laugh in their face
- stands beside
Unites. Then they are two.
An honour it is to stand
With one who boldly
Nobly, quietly
Faces the day
Never alone
In between days
For those days
When nights drag on
Waking up takes far too long
Or you've been awake for hours
Nothing new
Rest your feet on the ground
Give your arms a hug around
There is plenty in the day
That you can do
Find a friend, child or pet
They will put your mind at rest
A warm touch to take the chill off morning's dew
Do the thing on the list
Wash the dishes, fold the towels
It's a meditative act
If you hum or sing out loud
Walk outside, breathe it in
Streetscape, sea or gardening
Soak in the air's attentive touch on skin
If the sky falls, step aside
There is somewhere you can hide
With your pet, child or friend and just play cards.
The End.
Key of a song
Thrumming of rain
In the morning
Steel roof
Orange lit sky
Bursts at dusk
Mountain shadow
Cadence of breath
Skip of steps
Sand and waves
Key of a song
Tells the tale
Of love's bond
Selke
How wholesome, it was said
We did meet by river bed
Rock pools swirling
Dreaming of past lives at sea.
Our shared love of its creatures
A saltwater one, like me.
Stories of islands, voyages, cabin mates amd treasures found in giant clam shells.
Obsessions with tropical rainforests laden with a kaleidescope of butterflies.
Photographs in our minds of oceans, still as a pool with only the splash of flying fish disturbing the miniscus of brightly lit surface at sunset.
Within weeks, the cracks show
The lives of loves lost at sea a favourite sea shanty
Mine like sleeping volcanoes dotting the edges of tectonic plates all over the Pacific. Yet, their mere breath a flourishing of life, feeding schools of every species ocean wide.
The great diversity of my mind.
I did not lose my skin nor dignity, though sailing too close to the wind.
To one solo creature I hold dear, the ocean many leagues deep knows how far apart love and envy are.
Fair winds and following seas.
Rewilding
In the North
On this day
A million Painted Ladies
Drifted on highways
Of warm s'easterlies
Descended upon wild ancient
Lands remembered
To cocoon, feast and rise once again.
Artistic impressions of papillons
Adorn my door, socks, scarf
My eyes have never gazed upon
Such species near or far.
Do they dwindle and fade,
Will glossy scales fall?
Inevitably, yes
In a day.
How perfect that nature's most subtle beauty
Would feast on loathesome thistle, so thoroughly
To cause a whole crop to fail.
As I nestle in seasons of woven tales from near and far
Aran Islands to Chile
I, too, weave a cocoon
Each to each stitch laid bare, thoughts of places
I've never seen
Near and far -
Some I'd never dare
For slowly, I too, will lose the gloss of youth.
Not before I, and many more
Ravenously erode the fields
of prickly weed
For, come spring -
Who knows what I might be.
Poem inspired by the film, Wilding, 2025.
High tide
The tide is high
But I'm holding on...
Let it in
Let compassion
Soak in
Like water
Through sand
Burst
Forces of deep
All it keeps
Eventually
Rises up
