Constellation of Love

Constellation of Love

Stars project across our bodies,
A constellation of love,
Cast wide across contours of flesh,
Interdimensional galaxies of wonder,
Glinting in the night

Blue Monday

Blue Monday

Blue Monday?
Not this Monday

Growing Monday
Fighting Monday
Building Monday

Showing Monday
That this Monday
Is my Monday

Chapter One

Chapter One

Now is the first chapter,
The moment of our time,
And everything which came before,
A prologue which twists and winds

For it seems to me that in many ways,
Life’s led me to this point,
In preparation to ensure,
I know to do what’s right

For once I feel I’m sure,
And convinced in my path,
It’s not always an easy road to tread,
But it’s one that’s going to last

This book I’ll keep on writing,
Til I cannot hold a pen,
I’ll grip it til my final breath,
Right up to the end

Whilst I’ve only started,
And this book is hardly wrote,
Every page a masterpiece,
A found Shakespearean note

A tome you cannot put aside,
A novel so enticing,
You’ll read and read forever,
As love’s tale keeps on winding

Tonic

Tonic

Music is a tonic,
Which cleans our souls,
And scrubs us clean,
With red hot coals,
Until we’re pure,
And what’s before,
Is only a dream,
Behind a door,
We’ve left behind,
And walked away,
For history has no place today,
With every note,
And every breath,
I feel the warmth,
Building in my chest,
For love is love,
And will ever be,
And nothing can take that away from me

Acorn

Acorn

In dusky autumn,
As the leaves burn red,
An acorn falls from the clutches of a great oak

Cushioned gently by the mulch,
Cradled in the dirt,
Leaves fall,
Burying the acorn in a cocoon of earth

The winter winds arrive,
Burying the seed deeper and deeper still,
Consigning it to the dark,
Rain soaking the muddy sarcophagus in which it now lies

In the coldest moment,
The ground is frozen by the wintry night,
As the damp soil expands,
The seed’s shell cracks

As winter’s cold turns to springtime hope,
The ground thaws and the water melts,
Creeping between the smallest fissures,
Igniting life in the acorn’s soul

From the broken shell of this small nut,
A tiny change occurs,
And the green of life reaches for the light,
Searching for the bright

At once reaching upward,
And both below,
Both for air and water too,
To nourish its transformation

Laying roots so deep and wide,
No hurricane could shake it,
That wonders of the world shall stare,
And gaze upon its splendour

As the shoot should journey up,
Pushing dead leaves aside,
With a soft and relief filled burst of strength,
It burst through the dark night into the light

And shoots to saplings always grow,
Warmed by the summer sun,
Saplings to trees shall too become,
In demonstrated power

In time this tree,
Once acorn small,
Cracked amongst the dirt,
Shall touch the heavens with royal splendour,
Trunk full and wide and strong

Born to stand two hundred years,
Born to show the truth,
That from tiny acorns do indeed,
Grow trees that change the earth

Loco

Loco

In a prickly womb of over consciousness,
I lay

Thoughts like a railroad run through me,
Blowing up the leaves of my torment,
Blasting through the tranquility of my mind,
Like a bullet in the dark

How can I stop this train?
It’s speed and direction unerring,
Plowing through my sanity,
As snow is kicked up in the wheels

Maybe if this locomotive,
Could be slowed by just a bit,
I could grasp some reality,
Work through what I need to do

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