Sunday, 12 June 2016


Poised poppies
petals pursed
Seminal seeds 
And burst
hairy pods
to die

Sunday, 13 March 2016

Broken-winged Bird

The icy moon
holds memories
of Autumn
The thrush's song
fills the air

search the skies
a broken-
winged bird
I am

Saturday, 27 February 2016

The Silence

She looked at him
and wondered
what it was
she was supposed to feel

Sorrow perhaps?
But she only felt
the numbness
inside of her

He stopped talking
Perhaps waiting 
for a response

She looked at him 
and wondered
what it was
she was supposed to say

He spoke louder
Perhaps to invoke a response
Perhaps to force her to listen
Perhaps to fill the silence

But she only heard 
the silence
Only felt the numbness
 Coiling tightly
inside her 

Holding her,
Binding her,
to the silence
between his words
where she felt safe

Saturday, 13 February 2016

You Make Me Feel

You are trapped in my mind
in the maze of my dreams
haunting me

Your whispers brush my cheek
get tangled in my hair
tormenting me

Your touch  melts my heart
scorches my soul
torturing me

Your kiss leaves me breathless
words die on my lips
confusing me

Your eyes leave me vulnerable
naked before you
shaming me
Your gaze grazes my skin
I embrace the pain
you make me feel

Monday, 27 April 2015

Your Kiss

Sweet poison -
My protests die
upon my lips

A million
butterflies born
to die

from your kiss

Saturday, 28 March 2015

Sometimes I Swear

I am normally quite sane
but it's impossible to remain
calm, cool and collected
when one is so affected
by awful technology
I offer no apology

Sometimes I swear
at windows 8(s)
What were you thinking
Mr Gates?

Sometimes I swear
at the cookie trackers
the computer hackers
the pop-up ads
and the one click cads

Sometimes I swear
at the scoundrel scammers
the weasel spammers
the dodgy emails
the programme fails
the useless apps
and at Google maps

Sometimes I swear
 I may not appear
quite lady like I fear
but yeah
Sometimes I really swear

Sunday, 15 March 2015

That Which Is

lift the veil
of pseudo melancholy
from this dismal canvas
for the raven sings
his courtship song
and she,
freshly bathed,
preens coquettishly

she frolics
to amuse him
 flirtatious harlequin
with raven wings
to behold

Sunday, 12 October 2014

A Hot Summer Night

Standing at the window
you slip your arms around my waist
and kiss my bare shoulder
I lean back into you
and lay my head on your chest

How softly the night
folds around us
The moon, sleepy yet, rises,
grandiloquent in her
lace patterned negligee
beguiled by the gloaming

Bats, necromancers of the night,
flittering fragments
of darkness,
excite the sullen summer air
as they frolic, reveling in the gloom

The sweet smell of moon flowers
glissades through the window
carried on the chorus 
of crickets
singing to arouse the stars

A moth seduced by the
candle light
flurries into the room
throwing shadows across
the walls
as it flutters and pirouettes
around the flame

I hold my breath
You place your hands
on my shoulders
run them gently down
my arms
and cup my hands in yours

lifting up my hands
you scoop up the flailing moth
and ever so tenderly
you close my cupped hands
around it

Confined between
our hands the moth
 vibrates and thrashes
I feel the pulse and throb
of its wing beats
against my palms

I feel too the pulse and throb
of your heart on your palms
pressed against my hands
Its beat, familiar, like that
of velvet wings

You blow out the candle
and open my hands
the moth clings to my palm
blowing gently
you release it into the night

You draw me into you
I feel your heat
my heart flutters

 Encircled in your arms
 I begin to understand
the burning desire
of the moth 
to kiss the flame