Realm of the elm

There’s no-one there
to wipe away my tears.
No-one to care
who’ll alleviate my fears.
There’s no tender voice
to tell me it’s okay.
I made my choice
to walk the other way.
Away from the one
who could not tell
how I flew into the sun,
to await the tolling knell.
Death has become me
I can hear its call.
I sense the urgency,
feel the pressing pall.
As a stake is driven
deep into my soul,
love and life are riven,
out of my control.
Hold out your hands,
call me to your realm;
to far off meadowlands
to rest beneath the elm.
There, to lay at peace;
no more this weary world,
where once, upon my knees,
the angry daemons whirled.

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Reach for the Moon

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Our love grew more and more each day.
Isn’t that what it’s supposed to do?
So why did I throw it away on cheap thrills;
use whore-like skills for salty spills?

I didn’t mean to break your heart,
but sometimes, a part of me is just…
unjustifiably unjust.

You didn’t suspect and didn’t expect
what was coming your way,
how your life would change overnight.
But neither did you put up a fight.
You let me walk; we didn’t talk it over.

I didn’t leave you for another.
I left you for me.
I wanted to be free, but in the stress, I confess,
I even made a mess of that.

I blame the cat.
She was old and when her time had come,
I became cold.
Instead of grieving, I took to leaving.
Couldn’t take the pain and yet…
I still can’t forget.

And I’m happy that you’re happy.
It took a while, but when I see your smile
I know that what I did was right – for you.
And maybe I might smile too… one day.

The love I found has done its round.
It grew too fast, too soon.
Reached the moon, but formed a crater.
Maybe, later, it can scramble out,
but for now, that’s in doubt.

I blew it.
And that’s what got me where I am.

Disclaimer: In the making of this poem –
No cats were blamed or people named.
No love was lost at any cost.
No smiles have faded, nor lives downgraded.
No hearts were broken or things left unspoken.
It’s only words that I have stirred
into the melting pot and not,
as you might think, a chink
in the armour of amour.

I also desired – and have acquired –
a book to help me rhyme… is that a crime?

Listen

When someone tells you who they are
With words of steel, and sharp as barbs
Listen to what you’re being told
When a heart once warm has turned to cold
Eyes that once looked on with love
Now blankly stare behind, above
Until another comes along
And from their lips, a loving song
Words once written just for you
Recycled in a note or two
The twinkle used to hold their gaze
You recognise from long-past days
Herein the mockery is made
The heat of lust begins to fade
In its place, a voice that speaks
Of ebbs and flows, love’s tidal peaks
Hear the voice that hides in wit
With strong refusal to commit
Heed well your instincts when they jar
And someone tells you who they are

Walkus – For Dad

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Vega: “Dad! We made new friends!”
Haiku: “There was Saffy and Basil…”
Vega: “Don’t forget Gunner!”

Vega: “We saw Sammy Pom”
Haiku: “He looks like a small lion”
Vega: “He remembered us!”

Vega: “Saffy barked at us!”
Haiku: “Basil bared his teeth at us!”
Vega: “Gunner… I’m in lurve…”

Little Elf

Maybe I do need some time to myself
Said the elf as he stood next to me
Some time apart would surely kick start
The love he once felt for me

I packed his bags and opened the door
I beckoned for him to leave
For a day or so, no more, I said
And I wiped my eyes on my sleeve

I had time to think for a very short while
And I missed his little face
I knew I’d lost him forever
He was in his happy place

It’s for the best, I tell myself
Yet the pain in my heart disagrees
I wish him well, wherever he goes
I had to set him free

There’s a part of his life I can never share
A secret place deep inside
Where I’m not invited, nor never will be
For another (or more) there reside

Be well, little elf, think of me oft
The short time we spent together
Felt so right, but was not meant to be
So long, my sweet, 4FR