Similarities are endless
The only colourful one
Takes to the mountains
At Christmas time
Dances in the sunlight
Show of flit and wit
Across the sky
Then disappears before your eyes
Waiting all year long
To catch a glimpse of wing tips like blue eyes
So it is, with you and I
For nigh on a decade
Enchanted by tales
Of wildest places
Where rough edges
Bleed out to sea
Coarsing through veins
Lungs of the world
Clutching the land
For all its worth
From those who take, take..
I trip tentatively
Through swathes of natives
Unknowingly trampling
Rare plants
Smudging invasive seed
Into mud with sodden tread
No permission to collect
I take and take, greedily
Hoping vainly
To strike a fragile quill
A tendril root, a mere bud
To bring home all I love
But instead, I raised beds
Of shrunken dried specimens
Memories snipped from whence they came
Never to grow again.
Now I learn and dissect
Identify how similar or different
The naming of all things
Already taken place
A namesake now only left
For stone engraving.
A flourishing filagree
Sprawls across imagination
Possible only by
Space left between
Shelves of memories
Some on display
Others never seen again
Light and gentle movement
Stretch and bolster vitality
Sending hope waves through the brain.
Invitations to Sunday afternoon
Drives winding through rainforest
Sunlight dapples breath taking
To a hotel nestled in gentle folds
Of ancient mountain.
Return to oneself.
Bathe in possibility lain broken.
Dare not feed the narrative of turbulent deep dreams
Though if disturbed by slumber's provocative story telling
Hope awakens with bird song daily
Dreams escaped
To a reality which is perhaps dull in comparison.
Trembling knees, wringing hands
Short of speech, time demands
Nervous smile, staring gaze
Waking in a temporal haze
Awe of vast firmament
Cloudless starstruck night in tent
Firmly does the body know
Love of wild ancient lands does grow
Trials and fails of fiction
Matches made in low-lit bars,cafe's and gas stations.
Shake off sticky cling of connection plagued by interference.
The Editor stands looming over head.
Hiding in some alpine cloud or cave under ridgeline.
Heavy pen pressed to storyline.
Poised, ready to edit me out of one's life.
Hesitant is a friend until the next wave of my wandering.
Stories untold how to salvage after the fire consumes everything
End is not always loss when so much worth was claimed.
Happenstance turned us both down left and right field of remembrance.
Standing at opposite sides of the will, wake up to all the things you said.
Let it blaze inside the mind for a wishful younger self.
Spurn at the thought of marked embrace, that leftover sweet touch of soft centre pending.
Spending time with you
I fairly always knew
Never to call you 'mine'
Even though it's true
When your hope was without end
Your smile could light the sky
Your love never ran dry
I wish I knew you when
Passion put your thoughts to pen
Ink ran free, exploring edges
Of wilderness ne'er seen
I'd dream to hold the hand
This wishful young woman
Full of wisdom and insight
Not anticipating ache
Even more than this
I long to hold the kiss
And the gaze that beheld
A life lived wild and free
Yes, more than any thing
A sunny coast retreat
A quick retirement
Just me and the breeze
Yes, more than this
I just wish I knew you now
I sifted through the mound
of lightly tinkered implements, ornaments, embellishments.
Curious to comb fingers through light whisps of cotton candy hair stirring on breath.
Trice eyes met.
Chattels of connection melt in the swelter of touch.
Bonds of time fling affairs out of space.
In no ritual way
I swallow words as readily as lemon tarts.
One hundred ways to say
I am yours
Though never mind
The crumbling gateau of cream filled sublime.
Count the stars of heaven 