Morning light 

Waking up with a lightness in my mind,

As I realise it’s only a matter of time.

The sunlight breaks through the cracks,

Seeking, tripping, pouring a delightful attack

On darkness, it slices and tumbles in a dance.

A complimentary juxtaposition, cutting silence,

The dust swims between these realms,

Like their dreams are fighting fears at the helm – 

Jutting, falling landing on my skin,

Their ferocious fragility echoes within.

A touch you can see but not feel with any weight

But the comforting warmth of the beams, that I break

With my hands, as they tango in light with the dust,

Reminds me beauty is there – if you look hard enough.

Clouds

The clouds, I admire them

Their ability to always create

Always new textures, depth, light and dark

A refreshing beauty our logic negates  
They embrace their difference

Exploiting their shadows

As they emphasise their light

They are raw, whole, open, honest

Eyes explore their entirety with delight  
Their faults and flaws make them beautiful

It’s as if they know it and exploit our shallow nature

Using nature, against human nature 
We blame them but we delight in their absence

And their presence in an endearing equality

A lesson leads from clouds

Perfect imperfections and an obstructive beauty 

Morning breaks the night
Shards of colour in the light
Spreading hope and inspiring delight
In that brief moment there’s no fight
Firey waves through clouds ignite
It’s the morning, the day, a welcome sight

Autumn storm

Skeletal hands claw at the blackened sky
As nature fights nature, tooth and nail
Leaves fly viciously, slicing the wind
As the beauty of Autumn turns pale
Roots slip and slide through concrete
Clutching at falling feet in the rain
The once crisp, crunchy carpet of leaves
Are sludge and their colour is drained
Welcoming winter with a grey-blue glow
Trees reaching for the fractures of light
The sun dully lights thunderous clouds
People bracing ‘gainst the breeze with might
They now wade through the dregs that cling
The beauty of Autumn turned liar
In limbo of a colourless landscape
Tentatively aware of each moment
Stuttering through the overcast streets
Step the footsteps that once kicked fire

Rose

screen-shot-2016-11-13-at-16-38-25I’m a promise, an apology, a gift and a hope
Desired with bold colours, I reach towards the light
Helping to hide tears, hoping I find a true smile,
A beautiful, intoxicatingly simple delight
Accompanied frequently with a stroke of a pen
And embellished and glorified by ribbon & prose
I’m his tribute, his gesture, his hope and his love
I’m a glimpse of forgiveness, requited true love,
I am the rose, his rose
Your Rose

Say or said

A short poem of decleration

I want to say so much to you,
I want to win your heart.
I want to keep your eyes alight
I should’ve said from the start…
Said that you are beautiful,
Ignite your heart and hold your tears.
Said, to me you are always everything,
Taken steps and fought your fears

I want to say your beautiful
That you’re right and I’ve been blind.
I want to say you mean everything
I can’t take you off my mind

The beautiful moment

A poem about finding the beauty and trying to hold onto the positive after a broken heart.
Published on Spillwords 2016

What’s your favourite moment?
The question is often posed,
A recent, beautiful moment,
With hopes and hearts deposed.
And in an instant I can see it,
Feel your body, smell your skin,
Because the beautiful favourite moment,
Is when I end and you begin.

I can still feel my arms around you,
Hear the song as the needle coasts,
The melody, the pedantic cracklings,
The record player contains these Ghosts.

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