Vacant stare with lipstick to spare
Sparkly sun shining through your rum
Nowhere to go without giving a show
Is this really what you’ve become?
Random tests of pure intelligence
Forfeited for a quick buck
No real show of talent unless it’s alien
You’re just riding on luck.
One more click before a book signing
Who knows what’s behind your big name?
Probably down to the guy selling all those used rubbers
We know you from your stilletos to your shallow fame.
I may not be a Book Thief
As I watch the bloodied sands
Of time connecting destiny
To the evil of man,
A Girl On A Train may be the last face
I see this mournful night.
As we bid farewell to the children,
Their future now in hindsight,
A wishful dream of peace lays derelict
As I count the grains and cry.
Last day of school
Works already gone
Submitting like fools
To the shopping throng
Get out our wallets,
Purses and bags
Time for festivities
January’s the drag!
Goodnight, though the candle burns strong
Goodnight, close your eyes and dream on
Wish for an hour, maybe two
More than what we had before I said goodbye to you.
Goodnight, as the shadows draw near
Goodnight, whilst you hand chases my fear
Wishing for your touch to never end
Our short time, if only we could extend.
Goodnight, now there’s no excuse
Goodnight, I have to set you loose
Wishing that my lips never left yours
Soft, sweet sanctuary where I am forever yours.
I’m cleaning out my closet
Paying up my bills
Counting the excess
Finding holes to fill
Erasing my past
Throwing my lifeline
Over a steadier cast
No need to panic
Not yet anyhow
Soon all will be manic
When I turn back to being a cow
As I walk in the dewdropped field,
Berries shine brightly
Bobbing gently in the wind.
Dandelions down the furs,
Imagining their travels
So far afield to disperse
Their beauteous wish imagined.
Seeds lay abandoned next to crunchy leaves
Awaiting their upliftment on the welcoming breeze.
I watch the meadow sigh in delight
As fortold by their turning
Sleep written in their dying leaves
Till spring when they be awakened.
Consume my physical receptacle
Poor your passion as you will
Favour the inevitable
As I swallow the bitter pill
Of realising your incompetence
In more than a physical presence
Leave me yearning for more substance
In my search for a soulmate’s essence.
When you heart stops fluttering
When those thrills stop coming
I was your one, your forever
Sending chills to your members
Stop the cussing, I still love you
Broken hearts fusing without glue
Hold the angry words, the hatred
I shared your bed, love unabated
Cold nights alone, you’re out there smiling
New sweethearts, new relations shining
Still as my tombstone, you remember
Celebrate my memory, birthday’s in November
Image courtesy of favim.com
Slivers of light
Huddle up close
Piddling through the night
Warm your cold nose
Light on your feet healing
No harm in dreaming
Time to sing a new song
Find that sliver
Brighten your day
Abate your shiver
Choose your own way
The moon; she beckons with wanton abandon. Her glowing tresses weave their silken threads across the open field. Soft beams blend as her wondrous smile wanes on those fortunate enough to see her; fortunate enough to take the time to watch her dance. We stand there, admiring her finesse, mesmerized by the darkness draped behind her, sparkling with gems so beautiful it’s hard not to stare.
Peace envelopes our shivering bodies as she captures our attention again, flaunting her brightness. She knows just how beautiful she is and uses her assets to her advantage. Even the sleepy birds turn in their hidden alcoves to watch the show.
Time passes unnoticed as the sound of giggling imps and their loveable mutt chase each other under her watchful eye. They know that their time is limited and squeeze the fun out of every second they are allowed to play under her watchful eye.Soft serenades float through the air; we are not alone. Others have been drawn out from their comfortable homes to greet her, to watch her and admire her. She beckons to them as she calls to me: dance with me. Dance! Who can refuse such an invitation.
With flittering feet, I alight the stars trapped in her dark cloak and jig to the soft ethereal music of the night. She laughs at my sad attempts to emulate her beauty, forgiving my state of mad love in her presence. After all, when the moon beckons, no-one can refuse to dance.
Image courtesy of gify.com
Posted in Poetry, Weekly Trail
Tagged blog, blogging, dance, life, love, lyrical, moon, poetry, romance, stars