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the sea is calling me

I was up before the dawn,

Listening to the sea calling me home

The bed is soft and warm, as you lay beside me

But the sea is calling me

 

I kiss your forehead and watch you sigh

The sea is calling me

 

Down the path in the dark to the white sandy beach

The endless rolling waves of green and black.

The dawn is coming and the sea calling

 

And I listen to the sound of my heart,

restless and content in each beat

The sea is calling me

And you are there still asleep when I return home.

spring’s coming

In spring my thoughts turn to Robin Hood 
After a long winter’s slough
I rise
Shedding my heavy coat for one 
Of Lincoln green
It is that tune again, that plays restlessly in my mind at night 
It is that wind that rustles, murmuring 
Round the house and through the halls
Calling, calling, me 
To walk out in the green 
To run in the twilight forest shadows 
To whisper amongst the soft pale leaves and tell the tales that must be told 
Once more 

It is spring and Robin Hood
Has come again 

write what you know

“Write what you know”
okay.

I am small, I am afraid, I am worried.
I exist in a forest.
The trees are green and brown and gray
the sky is out there.

I taste sweet and bitter all at once,
not all the same, not every day
but sometimes my salt is too strong for you

There are dragons in my heart,
tigers in my eyes,
crows in my hair

I am not as small as I once was
I still worry

longing, yearning, wanting,
missing reaching, wanting

I want so much

distance, oh the miles, oh the faraway trains
in my long-ago dreams, carry me on and on

notebooks are the best places to put your words
words are the script of your heart

if you write a song and sing it softly
no one but you hears it
no one but the shadows and the quiet
that’s okay
it’s a song just for you

my mouth is bursting with all the kisses I have to give
all the words I need to write
all the things I want to say

“How do you know these things?”
I just do.

“This isn’t what we meant.”
I know that too.

I know them anyway.
I write them anyway.

“if not now, never”

the wine bottle that’s stood on the porch window
since summer, now holding
the occasional cigarette butt

the tea candles in the bathroom
on the table, by the microwave, everywhere
leftover from dates

the cork behind the laundry bag, just tucked away
chilling in the corner

the swimsuit back from the sauna,
hanging on the rack to dry

all of these I leave, as signs of how happy
my sister is these days

Sunday morning

Get up before noon and write three poems
the lord wouldn’t want heard
in the pews of his house

the devil laughs and doesn’t care
he’s gone out walking today
the sun is bright
and the day is fine

there are words on the tip of my tongue
and the tips of my fingers
and they are whispering to be freed

in ink and skin
and promises and time
will let us spend them
and share them with the day

The melancholy drawl of emotions

goes on and on and on

lingering long

after the hour

when I think it’s passed

 

How long do things exist

how much time is given over

to the pointless swell and fade

of quiet longing?

if a sin could sin

If a sin could sin,
It would look like you,
all shadow gray and midnight blue

You were a first star on a twilight eve
I saw your eyes and kissed your face
There is only open space
above our heads
And time lingering between us still

You are the one I see when I close my eyes
And the light fades
Kiss me now
Kiss me now

I have often dreamed of heaven
I have fallen far too far
I can taste your lips on mine
Kiss me now, take me now