The night

I've seen the clouds go rolling,

thought the dark, mid-winter sky,

as I stood still to hear the sounds of night,

not quiet at all, but low & subtle.

The dripping of the captured rain-drops,

falling from the bare tree branches,

as the wind lifts up the sounds of distant traffic,

and people returning from evenings out.

The swish of a cyclist riding home from a late-shift,

furtive animal, almost silent in the inky dark,

I don't feel scared or lost,

Its just peaceful and calm.

The dark isn't a place for playing games,

reading a book, or trying to sew,

but it surely helps hide the tears,

or comfort the soul.

A dream too far.

I wished for romantic evenings,
holding hands as we walked along.
Candle-lit dinners & whispers of careless moments,
sandy walks, long, uninterrupted.
Of secluded nights, blissful mornings,
Learning to know each other, getting to understand,
appreciate & forgive each other.

And eventually,
a life spent with the one who knew me best,
the one who trusted me, respected me,
treated me as an equal,
listened to me & and let me listen to them.
The one who didn't put me on a pedestal,
or put me down.
But was it a dream too far?

Running...

Running a race,
Running with the tide,
Running out of ideas,
Running out of time,
Running a risk,
Running high.
Running at a loss,
Running a fever,
Running around in circles,
Running behind,
Running up a hill,
Running out of steam,
And I'm Running out of Ideas......

So I travelled on.

Wandering though a barren land,

I came upon an empty place,

a house which had no roof, no door, no windows,

the wind raising leaves rushing around the lace

all tatty suspended from the gaping holes where once

a careful owner had chosen pretty coverings,

to shade the rooms from the heat of the sun.

Moving on along the road,

I saw a river in which the water

had turned a tepid, turgid green,

no longer able to flow gently,

but just slowly sliding 'tween it's banks,

no life containing, nor suitable for drinking by

any creature which valued it's life.

Further on I spied a city,

whose walls were crumbling,

covered in vines where anything was standing,

it's buildings neglected and ignored,

roads cratered, fences fallen,

not a person tending a care.

So I travelled on.

Nothing more than a name.

Alive, yet, life passes me by.

Awake, but feeling like sleep.

Hearing, but sound melts into a pool of randomness, meaning little.

Seeing, colours bleeding, edges blurred.

Feeling, texture all the same, nothing hard or soft, wet or cold, hot or dry.

Human, devoid of emotion however, having lost the ability to love or hate in equal measure.

Sentient, but unthinking, moving moment to moment, responding to the pushing of others.

Eating, tasting nothing, no satisfaction from nourishment.

A life in nothing more than name.........

Pain too great...

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Love is too great a pain to bear,
no longer is it a joy alone,
for once where I felt enthralled,uplifted,
This love now brings tears and sadness,
a trial beyond compare.

Sunlight once filled my heart,
music echo'd through my ears,
my eyes once shone,
now all this has gone,
and empty space pushes us apart.

My arms are wrapped around myself,
holding tightly whilst I cry,
I've given up holding back the tears,
You can't see me,
but I've lost the will to care.

Living on someone else's time...

On someone else's time you always watch the clock,
On someone else's time you can never relax,
On someone else's time they never feel like they are truly yours,
On someone else's time there's no room to do nothing.

In someone else's life you always have to come second,
In someone else's life it's never free of pressure,
In someone else's life you feel like you're intruding,
In someone else's life conversation is hesitant, not easy.

In someone else's space you are always looking behind you,
In someone else's space you can't be yourself,
In someone else's space there's no freedom,
And in someone else's space you leave no trace you were there.