To Love's To Let Delegate

as Winter nears and Summer clears
my fear of what I thought love dissipates
inhibitions sink as I disappear
in your affection, that instigates
changes in my disposition of love's
fiction and as our story implicates
I make haste to see that between
you and me dreams' poetry dictates
that to love's to let go and another to show
you that your heart's subject to its extent of delegate

If Dreams Could Redeem

I can't remember when I last felt this way
when or if I ever wanted someone so near
it's unclear but it may be that I never did
that I never let myself want anyone so dear
but now a night ends slowly and so it hurts
to not feel the hours pass quickly with you
I hear the clicking of the clock from my bed
as lying awake in the still night is all I can do
I choke on the silence that fills the room
and cigarette smoke stains all my senses
I think of tomorrow and what I might want
until I'm indecisive but for you and the past tense
will you be a lover that I sleep with forever
set to seep through the echoes of my dream
will I one day look back and wonder if I did
everything to leave me nothing to redeem

The Gardener

There was once a girl who wanted to be a gardener. Through the course of love in her life something happened to her; strange and peculiar perhaps, but with a resounding feeling. It started when she cried a tear. And the tear followed the crease of her face before it fell and turned into a seed. She picked it up and held it; held onto it. And then, when, she thought she’d found the right place she planted it on his lips.

After awhile of watching, waiting, hoping, but not knowing it, having already spread it’s roots down and through his skin and mind and heart, it began to grow. And, did it grow quickly and strong, before long sprouting. It grew flowers and foliage that were bright, warm colours, filling up all the eyes placed upon them with a feeling of warmth and love and satisfaction. There became an abundance of leaves; skin soft to touch, holding the weight of paper and expelling a scent of fresh. The ground all around the two of them felt soft and earthy and you could almost taste the soul seeping up from where some of the roots had pressed just through the earth reaching for open blue arms.

So, before long, not having expected so - though no one ever does - she realised that she loved it. She had fallen in love with the strength and beauty of those stretching warm colours, which contained in them all she was proud of, admired, desired and knew as life. She loved all that they became from the beginning; as just a single tear sown with a tender hope.

Imbued in her love with the beanstalk-like stretch to the clouds so intense, she neared herself to it and didn’t even realise an assimilation taking place. She was sowing herself to it; deliberately, intricately and infinitely. Her hair stretched itself out longer and longer, broader and thicker with the coverage of the foliage and her body thinned in places with the branches as she likened herself with all her like of the everything. She smiled and was happy.

Then, one day, and it was a day just like all the other warm, comforting, immense days a sole leaf flickered and twitched and then began to fall, lifting swiftly upwards a few times in the invisible hand of the wind before descending slowly and softly to the ground. With the one, having touched the soft, cosy home of earth, another slipped silently away as though sliced with a small surgical knife making an incision to commence an operation. The leaf fell as the other and watching helplessly she tried to reach out and catch it but nothing happened. She looked in all of the directions she knew and could and noticed more of the leaves stepping off and away from her. She tried again, to stretch her arms and hands out to catch some of them and collect their warmth, but she had no hands to do so. Every part of her was bound to it and to him and all she could do was will every single one with all her might to stay a little longer. She watched them so closely that she could see the slight cold eating into the brightness of each of them a little already.

Soon they were falling and not even clinging to the air like the first. They were tumbling, heavier than before. Heavy now, not with life but with the anvil of time. Like magnets, gravity seemed to pull them apart and down. It was like a sunset was raining all around her as far as could be seen and there was no horizon left, the lines between all spans of time she knew were blurred in a tangerine, purple haze.

Eventually everything was around and beneath her and him in a mound of dimming, fading embers; a melancholy, pretty mosaic of pride and desire and love. She looked up and could see the clouds now closing the door of the sky once so open above and everything seemed heavy as though it might push her into the ground. But, the earth was now buried and hard and cracking at the roots in those places reaching for the last light. She felt inside her sown up and together self and sought a tear to revive the glow of the darkening tower, but found nothing. She looked for long enough and in the moments she did locate something to excrete, a small salty, saturated tear made it’s way tracing those creases, now longer and older and deeper. But for being so, they never made it to the bottom to drop. They just gathered or ran until they were damp stains that stung like sores and she couldn’t bare them any longer, so she just closed her eyes and remained.

If you go to her, there, now, you can still see her stretched up and out in the world but baring nothing and seeing nothing and though the clouds’ doors occasionally open up and the roots thicken up out of the earth, not a single leaf becomes. And the tears won’t turn to seeds.

With A Scythe Time Harvests

this Summer I came to know
a girl who'd leave me behind
swift fallen in love; fortuitous,
the way strange context designs

made in delicate words our romance
was much the same as a rhyme
that at the scythe would show
we'd always have rhythm but not time

and though so many smiles
and good times we surely kept
it wasn't long before a clawing
edged and tears were wept

what set us apart was a story;
brought us eventually undone
that left set forever locked in
lover's eyes at a rising sun

when ever is a love done?
The moment always escapes me
though I know the hazy feeling
that in its fading betrays me

I pause so often throughout
my day spending costly wonder
at what would've become had our
love been let off tether to wander

she stays in the moon's stray light
keeping on from the sun's chase
in the Autumn's leaves that fall;
pretty colours her love's warm trace

then left in the vestige I best
sit beside 'cause turning from's hard
yes, the scent pressed to my memory
stains well all now with the past

at least in our last moment
she intimately knew my heart
and coming apart I dared not turn
to the very last step that she'd depart

now the future entices, beckoning
with hope it'll lead back to the start
and it's where I can't help but cast
all my dreams for another harvest's ask

The Lonliness That Owns Me

a lonliness now owns me that I owe you for my dear
you took what I didn't realise given until its disappearing made it clear
you're aware a tear here or there is how I'm not usually disposed
so it bothers me now to wonder why I remember you so close
and though my memory's fading one day I may see as blessed plague
I wish there was another way we could remain knowing our love less vague

Stripped By Our Lips

I wish there was another way
I could say all to you I meant
in the second that your lips touched mine
before you tasted so much regret

the moment now never to be
claimed can't play as I'd dreamed
actions whilst spawn of true intentions
now will never be what we deemed

Lately Lacks Any Satiate

where are you I wondered
as the train's thunder
drummed out the Bob Dylan in my ear
and further as I neared
the station of my destination
I became perplexed by a strange fear

that so cried inside me
softly and long unfamiliar
that where to place it I lacked idea
I spoke your name under
the whisper of my breath
and through my atmosphere it seared

so hot are you still
at the edge of my mind's
tongue that I'm parched for you
there's no satiate left
and my desire won't quell
I'm so spent with this want what to do

my heart a hail storm
impales my day with stones
of thought that collects and won't melt
it's a Winter inside me
despite the heat outside
my blanket of knowing what I felt