Poetry

Sparking joy

The sand sweeps across the pavement and over our trainers as we scan the beach and the laughing waves. You lean on the railing next to me, talking about how our heads never bumped in the years we’ve worked together and how it’s only now we finally see we had a friend there all along. Mr Crow stalks up behind you, eyeing the decorative chains on your trousers, captivated by the sun’s glint that has also clutched my attention. I point him out and we watch him strut, then make our own way back along the front. Those chains of yours clink together as we walk, side by side and in step, not knowing how close we are until our shoulders touch.

Poetry

Ghost act

The rain has filled up the circus tent, lithe

figures walking out of the wet floor to take their positions in the ring.

Spotlights create mirrors as they climb up thin vines

to the trapeze at the top. Aerial acrobatics

for anyone wanting to watch, energy matching

the stink of old straw, popcorn and tinsel pompoms left behind.

Outside, the sun breaks through and sends evening’s fire

around the grounds, sneaking into the big top as the act begins.

The performer jumps and evaporates, nothing more than steam.

Poetry

Tales by the hearth

The fire crackles in the grate,

shadows dancing with smoke tendrils as she reads

aloud, cloaked figures sneaking through her voice

to my wondering ears

as I cling to the embroidered arm of her chair.

 

The ritual nightly, yet never dull.

I play with the bobble on her slippers as she pauses to sip

Lady Grey from her fine china cup

then places it back on the saucer.

 

Resuming her place as though no pause had been taken

she leads me into the night

to meet the King of Dreams.

 

When I wake, the fire is dead

and her chair is cold,

its colours faded.

Poetry

The Graveyard Visit

The grass blades are rapiers

doused in mercury.

I choose to walk with dragon-scale shoes

to that soft mound

covering the stone I’ve looked on so often.

 

I remember you next to me, bright eyes.

 

Remember the heat of your breath on my neck,

the charge to your fur that would crack blue

if I wasn’t careful,

scolding my fingers.

 

The thud of paws still vibrates through the ground

with every step away

I take.

Poetry

Mind Song

We float around in our little heads,

conjuring images from things long said

and if the circuit board

should ever be damaged

wiping our memories

both sweet and savage,

we know that time often heals

with due care, sensible practices and steady meals.

Even if we’re unsure what we’re seeking

we can still approach the stars with proper greeting.

Poetry

Make a Wish

Do you think if I hit the bell,

it’ll open up a portal to you?

That’s what I’d wish for, in this wishing well

that occupies one space

but is in two places at once.

 

I wonder, will you hear the bell ring?

I think you would, and you’d know it was me

because who else

would use up every spare penny in their purse

to try,

on the off chance that you’d be passing by

on your side

and discover its peal?

 

You might not see me,

but you’ll still¬†see¬† me.

My image, try after try,

my pout every time I fail,

my delight when it finally hits.

 

It may not open an actual portal,

but maybe, for now,

this is enough.

Enough for us both to cling to,

until our paths shift indefinitely

onto the same track.

Poetry

Blanket Fort

Our covers are soft,

they call us under

to the secret land known only as

Slumber.

It’s a place of whispers,

a cave of dreams,

an escape from reality for those

less keen.

While we’re there,

wrapped in each other’s arms,

all I know is your love keeping

me calm.

When we return,

drowsy but content,

I remember the time there we

blissfully spent.