TBC.

I could lose myself in that sky,
A sky so blue, a reminder of how;
My heart pulled out of my chest now longs to fly.
Though too far, for now.

It falls short, the strands of gossamer thin,
Waving, fluttering, across oceans, across fields.
A balance that could be tipped with a single pin.
An intoxicating feeling, with yet unknown yield.

An old 'un but a good 'un.

Just an old but lovely poem I wanted to re-blog before it is lost in the internet. Written originally by my old friend Will waaaaay back in 2012; see link below for original post. See below below for poem :) He now writes poetry but here.

Avalon; Twilight

And no, before you ask. Its got nothing to do with vampires. Just a beautiful friendship.

Do you remember that time? Those moments?

Of course you do.

The warm evening air, the fading twilight.

That place we say, we two.

We'd talk of our dreams, of faraway places, of lost lands.

The here, the now and the new.

Our fingers entwined, spirits dancing, our thoughts tripped over one another.

Such things we saw, such things we felt, such intrepid adventures we had.

Now, back again, on our little patch of eternity, it all floods back to me.

The heather still blooms in the cold, the pine trees shiver with the breeze, again

The night-jar whistles away.

Stars half-shine in the evening sky, your phantom besides in the gloom.

Now, we find ourselves marooned in a new world,

The past seeming a thousand miles away.

All that remains is that melancholy summer.

Those wondrous, glory days.

>>>

Forever moving forward
A destructive force, but passionate.
Wading through the quagmire
Disregarding the past.

Behind, a land locked in time.
Same people, same faces; stagnant.
Never ending circles,
How can that be living?

Haiku.

chill nights, silence reigns
darkness almost calls my name
thoughts all-consuming

A different kind of fear.

The days click closer, one by one,
23 days more, until its done.
The feeling of dread grows as the time grows near,
It's not too long til I have to face my fears.


There wasn't fear til you couldn't be there,
And though every fibre of me knows that I shouldn't care,
This much or in this way, but to tell the truth I'm scared.
This is a different type of fear, to any I've beared.

So hold my hand, keep my smile intact,
Because you make me happy and make up for what others lacked.
But you can't be there when I walk through that door,
To face what was once, in place of you before.

Something missing.

I saw someone who looked like you today.

It wasn't you, but it made me think.

It is your smell I miss the most,

That comforting musk in the fresh evening air,

That we so often inhabited.

You stained my heart that fateful season,

During that downtime of reality.

That hillside, those thoughts.

I have never met someone,

Whose thoughts lace so tightly with mine.

And it is you, who taught me that I can do better,

That I deserve better, than all those before.

Thankyou.

Without an 'e'

      Audacity is common amongst harlots. Short and stout, it knows no truth, only lust and sly, slimy plans. With a tact not dissimilar to that of a bull in a china shop, it storms through, trampling and oblivious. Fury flows, hot as spilt blood and forms a low lying fog for days, months. Till it twists a cog too far and a crack forms from its motion. 

 

-M 

[It's old, but I hadn't realised I hadn't put it on here. Not one 'e' used in the above writing.]