Spring

A strange take on spring, but here goes …

She stands lips
red as heart
hair a black
waterfall in a
starless night.

Her voice like
dry bones
calls the rain.

‘From cold stone
I walk again.
A child spoke
my name and
dark blood crawled
slow waking a
whispering pulse
like the stirring
of grass long and lush
in a half-
remembered place.

From the deep
silence
I broke through
bare rock a
crocus rising
throwing off
the winter in
red flame.’

Walking home in the fading light

As the days here give way to autumn nights, I was inspired to write about the passage of time, using the metaphor of the change of seasons.

Walking home in the fading light

I’m walking home in the fading light
Beneath the sun on a summer’s night
Golden rays and honey hue
Touch my cheek – I think of you

My spirits lift, the sky’s still bright
I’m walking home in the fading light
Your voice, an angel’s cherished song
I hear, just when I thought it gone

Upon my cheek, your gentle hand
Old, you’re with me as we planned
I’m walking home in the fading light
A memory of past delight

Your eyes a honey coloured hue
Fade and leave me in the blue
As day recedes to darker night
I’m walking home in the fading light