Reminiscing On Storms

I heard thunder last evening
A rumbling, roaring beast.
I thought of you then,
As I lay staring up at an out of reach ceiling.
No, it did not represent your temper,
Nor your non-Latin heritage,
Nor even the flashing lightning of your smile.
No, my dearest mum,
It reminded me of your soothing hand on my brow
When I was young and scared.
Funny how a storm evokes such feelings.
Funny how I always pray for more.


Insubstantial Love

Corrugated faces

Wrinkled by time,

The love’s still the same,

Eyes lustre still shines;

The feelings matured

Through skin paper-thin,

Insubstantial, she feels,

But not so to him.

Reasonless Worry

To stand amongst such opulence,

As a stain before the rain,

A humble man, humbled.

There is a sense of false spotlight upon me

Within the fractured colours 

Of Stained glass memories,

Beacons seeking sin.

Am I to be judged not decadent enough

Before the gold and ruby splendour;

Cowed beneath domes and filagree? 

I cannot answer for I am speechless,

But relieved to have removed my shoes.

The Essence of Love

 Love is a message transposed in the clouds
 Love is when two are alone in a crowd
 Love is the passage of your heart and mine
 Love is this feeling, I call it divine
 Love is the sunlight caught in your eyes
 Love is a moonbeam that carries our sighs
 Love is the nature of what we should be
 Love is the essence you’ve poured into me

They Call It Love

 They call it love,
 As breath catches,
 And heart skips a beat.
 They call it love,
 As eyes glaze over,
 And teeth chew on lip.
 They call it love,
 As legs go weak,
 And body begins to shake.
 They call it love,
 As time locks in a moment,
 And you know you’ll never forget it.
 They call it love,
 And I was just wondering
 If you feel it too?

Of Unwanted Joy

 I should pen a pretty poem,
 A few words of love,
 A few splashes of smut
 To play to the masses.
 But I do not feel so inclined.
 I do not want to write for the masses,
 Only for me.
 On this day, I cannot hide myself,
 Nor do I wish to.
 On this day
 Joy is unwanted,
 And not searched for.
 I wish only to mire in the darkness that I struggle with.
 I wish only to be left alone with the demons.
 I wish only to be me.

The Lightest Breeze

 She swept into my life
 Barely stirring the dust on the ground.
 Those around me were unmoved.
 (Had they even seen her?)
 Whilst I was knocked off my feet.
 The only hand that reached to me
 Was hers;
 The only one to look upon me
 And smile;
 The only one I would want to.
 I know the signs now when we have been apart,
 An ability to sense her return like spring after winter:
 A lessening of misery;
 Delicate, tremblings of heart;
 But, I still end up flat on the floor
 With that same hand reaching down to me.
 I always will.

(Image courtesy of Elestrenn on


 Raindrops fell so softly
 Dancing across the lake:
 I did not hear them.
 Sunlight shone with vigour
 Burning away the morning mists:
 I did not see it.
 Lavender purged the spirits with scent,
 Wafts of the wilderness:
 I did not smell it.
 A feather drifted down from heaven
 To brush upon my cheek:
 I did not feel it.
 As every sense I had was set on you.