before the darkness throws a blanket
that tucks the world to sleep
I search
through desert sands barefoot
and the wind will blow and nothing will remain

heat shimmers – belly dancer
it slows my steps, but not my heart
I have a thirst
only you can quench
and the wind will blow and nothing is the same

you are real, my memories clear
a chance meeting, we are kindred
you asked me to follow
to the ends of the earth
the end of the sand
and the wind will blow and I am near

oh moon be patient; let the sun breathe
its final breath, visions of you haunt
I feel you in my heart
but my touch is out of reach
and the wind blows… leaving me thirsty

Orchard love

imagesPatchwork light streams between limbs
the orchard trees weighty with fruit
bow in submission, touch the ground
that is when I first laid eyes on you
as you reached for the bunch that grew
closest to the sun, crimson red, full and ripe

wine coloured days, apples, cherries
strawberries picked tenderly, I imagined you
cradling my face, I, the strawberry
not to bruise or spoil

yet I did not exist, the weeks under the sun
as I toiled within arms reach, sheltering my gaze
beneath my hat of straw
you had said “hello”, you had smiled, more than once
did I misconstrue again?

summer ended, the picking done, you went away
and I watch the rain strike the barren trees
the trees once full of red
fingertips paint the foggy glass
and I cry crimson tears


My 500th post. I thank each and everyone of you for supporting and reading what I write.

Open your eyes and see me


I carry a burden deep within
I am encumbered for my want
of acknowledgment from you
I am deprived I starve I thirst
for your attentions your desire
that food and water will not sustain
your eyes do not see me or
know of my existence
yet I continue fighting to be seen
I am covered in your eyes
swaddled invisibile
my obsession surpasses
the air that I need to breathe
this wanton addiction
to be with you to be held
I’ll burn for you

For: Picture it and Write

Unrequited love

I’ve travelled past your window many times, when the sky was trying to touch darkness.

I look at the lamp that yields a soft light and the curtain that blows behind the partially opened glass.

I see the wooden table in the corner with your papers and the phone, that I have rung so many times, without you answering. Have you been busy, do you not answer it at all..to anyone?

Perhaps just not for me, for I would listen as it rang, salty tears running down into my mouth, brushing back my hair to stop it sticking to my cheeks. Mascara stinging my eyes.

I look back at the lake slow ripples transverse across the water, I look back at your window.

The trees are black not green.

Your eyes dark I remember them, you think I don’t.

The water is dark foreboding, yet it draws me.

It is cold, my toes touch it’s edges, it laps against my ankles.

Touches my stomach, half of me is numbed, my dress floats to the surface.

I walk.

Each pore turned white.

The water is dark, the sky matching.

I remember your dark eyes.

I loved you.

I will be your ghost for breaking my heart.

If only you answered my calls….