Ivy

The stony wet wall, moving and alive. Pointille of carmine, cobalt and emerald green in the breeze, picking up the organic mustiness of the decaying, damp, dead leaves underneath. The ivy clings to the wall to grow and to expand. Over time the ivy and the wall become one, intrinsically linked. To pull the ivy off the wall will bring down the wall with it.

'The story'

"Tell me 'The story' Dad. I love it so much Daddy!"
Sarah's father sighed. It wasn't so much an exasperated sigh as she interpreted, it was a sadness in him, a loss.
Speaking of his now long gone love was like digging up fragile fossils. Delicate and beautiful, lovely private treasures. All the flesh long gone and only the frames remain and if you embrace them too firmly they'll collapse and be lost forever.
And at these times when Sarah, a splitting image of her mother demands that he relive when he first met Ailsa he feels less than complete.
They say that amputees go to use their missing limb and they never fully comprehend that it's gone forever. He still went to talk to Ailsa hold her hand and buy her favourite flowers.
But Andrew then smiles to his daughter.
"It was a lovely balmy September night in the mountains. Crediton Hall was decked out beautifully with blue and white balloons.
"The lemon tree to the side was full of white flowers and small green fruit.
"Your mother was sitting on the steps under the lemon tree.
"She wore a loose floral dress that she wasn't too comfortable in, and wore riding boots and her hair out, and it was a little bit messy."
By now Andrew is a bit more relaxed and getting caught up in the story himself. Five years worth of wrinkles dissapear and a youthful colour returns to his cheeks.
"We danced all night, quite clumsily but happily.
"The whole town was there that night."
Eugella is a dairy town still now. It has rolling green hills, hot summers and cool crisp winters. Winter was Sarah's favourite time of year. The hills were often covered in a misty doona for days on end.
"We were the talk of the town from then on" he continued "We went horse riding every weekend for ten months and on one Saturday morning when the mist was still low and we were rugged up in woollen jumpers I asked her to marry me.
"She dismounted, and so did I, and we walked hand in hand with the horses travelling behind us all the way home. That was her way of saying 'yes' you see"
Sarah, at the age of seven went to sleep feeling she knew he mother just that little bit more.
Her father went and sat near the fire with a scotch in his hand.

Imperfection

I do not wish for flawlessness
In either you or me
Because I do not find beauty
In the unmarked and untouched
There is not the earthliness
The honesty and wholeness
I do not wish for perfection
In either of us
Because it's not what joins us
So, I celebrate your imperfection
And my flaws
It's what draws
Us together
As a community
As dear friends
As families

Lovestone

A lovestone
Is not a stone
It's not another person
And it is never a marriage
It is the hope in a heart
An acceptance of loss
Along with patience
And continuing to grow
And taste
And feel
So that this hope
Has somewhere to cling to
To hold onto
And grow
And call a home

Distance

The distance
Between love and in love
Is perhaps so minute
that a magnifying glass
Doesn't have a chance
Of knowing for sure
But, to be sure
It's worth the risk
To see how close it gets
Because perhaps
One day
Those jigsaw pieces
Will fit perfectly
Making a magical picture
Seamless
No distance

isn't you at all

Lonliness found home in me the day you said that you didn't want to be with me any more. The love that had been my soul, that I had allowed to bury into me so deep that I didn't know that those place even existed. Your tendrils yanked out, making me slump over in emptiness and void.
Sometimes I pour wine into those vacancies left by your absence and this just makes it worse because I have wholeness that is fake, and it makes me miss you more because this drug reminds me of you, but it isn't you at all.

At a time

At a time
When things weren't as gloomy
As they could have been,
They were slightly grey
And dreary
To say the least,
But not unbearable or completely lacking.
A spring of hope,
Of trust and comfort
Of the loveliest Jasmin-infused spring breeze
You decided to knock on my door
Forcing me, but lovingly forcing me
To open that creaky wooden door
Which had been locked
For the long winter months
Wood almost petrified
And heavy to open.
The hinges whinged under its weight,
The silhouette of hope
Allowing me to not be blinded
by the new light and warmth
a taste of summer coming
of fresh air
of a warm heart
and of a warm hand.

Down to the sunny sea

To drown in you
Swallow your soul
Drink in your desires
Be engulfed by your energy
Then
To float to the surface
That reflects the starry sky
and travel contently
gently
Down the stream
Passing the yellow water lillies
and the happy trout
the weeping willow caressing the waters brim
Down to the sunny sea
Ah! to drown in thee!

Sprinkling of summer

Sunniness
Is a smile on your face
Your radiance bursting through
Even on the coldest winters-day
With a backdrop of grey
Your eyes sparkle with sunshine
Your mouth speaks like the suns rays
A bit of warmth
A sprinkling of summer
For Scotland in February.

Yellow gumboots

Perhaps you are not
as deep as Loch Ness
Where they have never
found the bottom...
Not sure where my
silt has settled
If any has indeed
settled yet
But, the rain
is falling outside
Into the black, reflective puddles
and I want to don my yellow gumboots
Dance
like a child
with fantastical music in my head
Without an audience
But, if you are looking at me
Even if you are thinking of me
I will be a child
In yellow gumboots
With a huge smile

Green

Where does the green go in winter?
It is a world traveller,
Perpetually on the move,
Caressing this green and blue orb
With its hands each year
To return just as beautiful next year
Sprouting verdant green fronds
Unfolding waxy leaves and
Opening fragrant buds
In it's path

Hot coals

Having walked over hot coals
For less than this
For more than this
It's
Interesting how the mind
Wanders
Trapezes
Over ideas
Idealisms
Intentions and
Inspirations.
How the emotion
Swings
Settles
Then swings again
To arrive
The same,
Similar,
But, singed.

Africa

You have touched me all over
With your hands and thoughts
With your mind and spirit
You have affected me
With your hardship and endurance
With your plight and resilience
You have captured me with both arms
With your honesty and rawness
With your laughter and history
You have stolen my heart
I can't wait to see you, smell you, touch you again.

Silver Fish

I saw a small silver fish
Writhing
Flopping
Jumping
On the Durban pier
And I had to save it
No-one else saw it
There were hundreds of people
It was writhing and flopping and jumping
On the pier
Only I heard it
Or saw it
In a crowd of people
In a city of people
I saw a small silver fish
Calling my name
So loudly
In the morning
So she felt the ocean again
Because of you
Because your voice is in my head
Your soft, gentle, beautiful voice is
In my head

Rainbow Trekking

I want to trek to your rainbow,
and on my way there
I will relish stomping in the puddles
in my yellow gum boots
without an umbrella
my hair flat on my head with fallen raindrops.

I will gaze into the grey sky
Neck stretched back
Drops of water bouncing off my open lips
And into my mouth
While eyeing off a pocket of blue
peripherally

A small speck of colour
A promise of your rainbow

Fridge poetry II

Lucious, Languid
Ocean paradise
Playing sweet dreams
Always remember
Taste
Pictures
Delicate and Absurd
Ache to tell
Our moon whisper

Fridge poetry I

In sordid night
In easy thought
The pain from rain
Any beauty raw
Springs
Our blood
House-full love
Still shine rich
Through our door

Grasping the rope
with both hands
the world spinning by
hair in front, then behind
tree branches caressing my arms
while I swing back and forth
Days of yesterday flooding back
as the brain dizzly swims
in
memory
whim
sin
gin

Thank you for
Killing me
It has given me
Clarity
And a reality
So that I can
Become a child again,
To walk again
And, start from scratch -
Reinvent the wheel
Whilst knowing that my energy
Is being well spent.
It is better to have loved
And lost
Than never loved
Thank you, for killing me

Tea cup

You make me feel delicate
and unbreakable
like a tea cup
that's seen
dancing at parties
the nurturing of swollen eyes
measuring flour for a homely cake
Waking lovers in the morning
Pacifying in the evening
you make me feel delicate
and unbreakable
like a beautiful treasured tea cup from your Grandmother