Alone

In the darkness the moon bathed the ocean, as it arched its back, and lightly caressed the sand at the foot of the island. Here she sat, peering out to the swathe of blues, black and silver. It was surprisingly bright in the evenings on the island, an untainted kind of bright. The kind of lightness that was around when the earth itself gave birth to the word she thought. And the sound? The night was full of noises but at the same time hushed and quiet. As she strained to listen she could make out the birds slow and soothing evening song entwined by the growing sound of fruit bats waking up to the night. Through the hum and buzz of the multitude of insects came the soft creaking of the trees in the breeze. She had felt the wind all day but only now did the trees seem to wane, bowing to kiss the sand upon which they lay rooted. It was night that was true, but it was full of a different kind of light and a different type of sound. She thought she was alone, then faltered at the word. To be alone, she mused.

The Quiet Realm

I remain in the quiet realm,
between the hazy blankets of solitude.
Waiting for the dawn to break
for light to warm this interlude

I remain in the quiet realm,
Waiting for a sign
For something small to emerge, a bit like hope
A dawn in the Iron mine.


I remain in the quiet realm,
Searching for some peace,
Fighting with the tightening pain
Of our far too short a lease

All I hear are whispers,
On the distant plains
With intentions for a new future
Whilst I lay wrapped in chains.

Will this cycle ever break,
Of an inner suffocation?
Like our time has stopped, a constant still.
An anti evolution?

But I remain in the quiet realm,
Waiting for you to remember
A life time of memories not wasted but kept safe
As we endure our fitful slumber.

The sea, wheron he rides

I ENVY seas whereon he rides,

I envy spokes of wheels

Of chariots that him convey,

I envy speechless hills

That gaze upon his journey;

How easy all can see

What is forbidden utterly

As heaven, unto me!

I envy nests of sparrows

That dot his distant eaves,

The wealthy fly upon his pane,

The happy, happy leaves

That just abroad his window

Have summer’s leave to be,

The earrings of Pizarro

Could not obtain for me.

I envy light that wakes him,

And bells that boldly ring

To tell him it is noon abroad,—

Myself his noon could bring,

Yet interdict my blossom

And abrogate my bee,

Lest noon in everlasting night

Drop Gabriel and me. Emily Dickinson

Daisy

A sleeping daisy, now awake, Tells a tale of a lovers fate

Love me now or love me later, For every heart this flower caters

The days eye blinking bright, Its leafy arms that love the light

Lu’lled within the medow grass, A memoir of the loving past

Now Sleeps The Crimson Petal

Now sleeps the Crimson petal; now the white
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me

Now droops the milk white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the earth all Danae to the stars,
And thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And sips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.


Tennyson

To Run

Just the run and the road.
Mind focused, breathing steady, a light breeze fills the air.
All things ahead and behind an ocean of green.
She takes a deep breath, loaded with floral scents and wild perfumes.

Just me and the road.

Her mind wanders from fields and flowers to you. It aches.
Aches for memories, aches for touches, aches for moments that no-one but you know.
Time, un-tangible, floats irredescent in the space.

Just me, you and the road.

A low branch brushes her face as she snaps back to reality.
And she remembers. The feeling of missing. Like no other ache.
Her feet, never really touching the ground stir up the dust.
A smile blossoms on her face. To know.

Just me, you, the road and the knowledge.

To know the feeling is returned. To know she plays on his mind too.
To know she is like no other, a moment shared in time. A promise.
To know she is wanted and needed.

Just me, you, the road and a promise.

Her breathing slows and her feet feel for the earth once again.
The sun beats down upon her neck.
A warm memory of a moment with you.
Breathlessness contentment.

Just me and you.

Ice meets Fire

Winter is coming.

And the struggle to reclaim the iron throne has begun.

The Others are back... to haunt the realms of men.