The Swimmer



 Rain battered the water’s surface. What had been sea was instead a myriad pools of individual ripples all bursting outwards, all seeking to be free. The auburn beauty who swam through them seemed not to notice. Her slender figure, a china doll cast into the ocean, battled against tide and weather, as though her destiny lay beyond the distant horizon, or the next, or the next. She was naked; she was free.
 
 I stood on the clifftops and watched her leave. It was mesmerising in it’s own way to see her swim off into the night. I don’t think she knew I was there, how could she? But I think it would have comforted her to know that I was; to know someone cared. Because it wasn’t until I lost sight of her that I realised she wasn’t coming back.
 
 I could never be sure what she sought in the open ocean? I have considered it over and over, again and again. If it was solitude, then I’m certain she would have found it. Anything else, and I’m sure she did not.

 
 (Image courtesy of Sleepingvelvet on deviantart.com)

Tokyo Escape



 Urban jungle
 
 Concrete and neon
 
 So many people
 
 No faces I know
 
 I’ve escaped to nowhere
 
 Run into a wall
 
 A mass of those striving
 
 For something
 
 They will never find here
 
 This was supposed to be
 
 Promised to be
 
 My Tokyo escape
 
 But escape to where
 
 As the temples chime
 
 In distant Kyoto

 
 (Image courtesy trialx.com)

No Christmas For She



 A time of joy to share in love
 But not for she who sought above.
 One Christmas too far for she
 Who’s dreams all fled down lavatory.
 In rosy tint of revellers face
 The lonely child knew just disgrace.
 Until escaped to winter night
 Her chance had come to do things right.
 So by the river wide of grime,
 She spent the longest of her time,
 Searching skies for Santa’s sleigh,
 But he did not avail her way.
 A final hope for child so wronged
 A bitter Christmas, double pronged.
 And with one final look to stars
 Into torrent she did depart.
 Her father caught, but all too late,
 As body washed up into grate.
 A gift for he who’d done her bad
 In jail he’d rot until drove mad.

Alone at the Bus Stop

Stood at the bus stop
With nowhere to go
My family, I doubt
Hunting high and low

My mother and father
Have been fighting again
They don’t know why
But I know the when

I wonder if there
Is a bus to the sea
I could sit on a rock
Alone and carefree

I don’t want to go home
I don’t want to cry
But I’ve got no money
Nothing to get by

I wonder if buses
To good homes are free
And if a nice family
Will take care of me

Or maybe I’ll stand
At this shelter all year
Until I can go home
With nothing to fear