ABIGAIL’S TALE

 

In the comfort of the coffee shop
Nestled into an oversized sofa
Sits Abigail, homesick and sad
As she reads a letter from home

 

She knows the sadness will pass
And sooner this time than the last
It strikes each time she hears from home
With news from those she left behind

 

Her parents, always loving and kind
Her baby sister, annoyingly lovely
All of her friends of long standing
And of course him, the reason she left

 

She left her home and those she loved,
The only place she had ever lived
After her marriage dismally failed
So she is building a new life for herself

 

Away from the people she loves

And the places and all the familiarity
The things that reminded her daily
Of her failure and her inadequacies

 

So Abigail lives far away in a new town
And she is making new friends
Discovering new places that will be familiar
As she tries to forget past mistakes

 

She has joined a new church in town
A new congregation, where her angels voice
Can sing loudly in praise to heaven
And she is finding peace within herself

 

And one day very soon, Abigail will sit
In the comfort of the coffee shop
Nestled into an oversized sofa
And not be desperately homesick and sad

 

One day very soon Abigail will read
A long rambling letter from home
And smile at it familiar contents
And she will not feel the old pain strike

 

One day very soon in her new home
Abigail will allow herself be happy
One day very soon in her new home town

Abigail will forgive herself 

JUST A SNAPSHOT

 

I held a picture of her

Just a snapshot

Dog eared and faded

Posed for posterity

A picture of a young girl

In a summer dress,

A “hand me down” clearly

The pattern faded

On the much altered garment

With a fraying hem

She was a pretty girl

With a face of innocence

Framed by brown tousled hair

A naïve and unaffected girl

Unsure of her beauty

And all the more beautiful because of it

Such a wonderful snapshot

Of a perfect moment

Captured so long ago

On a perfect day

I fell in love with her that day

As my heart melted

Like the snow in spring

I love her still and I’ve loved her

Every day in between.

Tears welled in my eyes

As I looked at that picture

Of naïve innocent beauty

And they fell unchecked

As I remembered

The woman she became

And the love we shared

But then she was taken from me

So all I have left is the snapshot

And all the memories it invokes

THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE

 

 

Like the star-crossed lovers,
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love

From those closest to them,
So they meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
At their secret place

To share a clandestine love

Where the only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
A gentle lapping of water

Against the bank

And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
They are fearful of discovery
As they embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree,
Its leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the water
Where, stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
Despite their fear, the lovers

Kiss in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such a tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect punctuation
And bask in its afterglow

Until they must once again stir

From their lovers languor
And sadly tread separate paths
To re-join their warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manners
No knowing looks to be exchanged
No casual brushing past
When for an exquisite moment
A hand might touch a hand
They must remain entrenched
With their warring clans

Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree

THE OLD RUSTIC STILE

 

The old rustic stile

At the end of the lane

Still stands like a memorial

Marking that special place

Where the fates conspired

That our souls should meet

Though on that day

We purposely trod opposing paths

But met at that rustic spot

And to help you cross

I took hold of your hand,

Small and silken soft

Guiding you safely to my side

Where you stood on terra firma

And despite the presence

Of our companions

We were to all intents

Quite alone as we stood

Hand in hand and in the moment

When hand touched hand

We at once beheld

Our lives from that point on

Would be forever altered

Our future journeys

Would be as fellow travellers

And we were content

With a shared destiny

The old rustic stile

At the end of the lane

Stands like a monument

Marking the place of alteration

A significant place

A spiritual place

A place often revisited

And on such sojourns

We find romantic renewal

As the energizing memory

Of that special moment

Of love at first sight

Assails our senses

Essentially invigorating

Like imbibing the waters

From the fountain of youth

And our hearts once again

Resound with joyousness

Sweet moments of romance

Those excited tingles

Of loves first passion

When hearts beat faster

And desire courses

Through every fibre

The thrill of blossoming love

Adding to the strata

Of our love, laid down

Through all our years together

So by returning to the place

Of loves wondrous inception

We keep our love alive

And in equal measure

Love returns the favour

OH TO FEEL LOVES EXQUISITE ACHE

 

 

Oh to feel loves exquisite ache
To feel that desperate longing
Experiencing that naked want
Of being with them again, and

Feeling so alive in the torment
While craving the next fix
Of that heady foaming brew
Which will satisfy the longing

And quench the thirst of desire.
And when that significant soul
Who holds my captive heart,
Is but a kiss and caress away
I am dragged from sorrows
Unfathomable despairing depths
And bitter anguish evaporates
Like dew under the morning sun
Until euphoria fills every pore
And in that perfect ecstasy
That blissful state of love
I remain until I am once again

Alone with my desperate longing

FORGOTTEN?

 

 

I had forgotten her
I had forgotten
The way she looked
With her bright elfin face
And brown soulful eyes
I had forgotten
The sound of her voice
With its sweet honeyed tones
And her infectious laughter
It had been hard
But I had forgotten her

I had forgotten
The smell of her hair
The taste of her lips
The touch of her skin
I had forgotten her completely
She was off my radar
My senses were free of her
Free of her intoxication
Free of her narcotic
It had taken months
Going cold turkey
To cleanse myself, to detox
To shake her from my consciousness
And exorcise her from my soul
But I had forgotten her

I had forgotten her
By changing jobs
Decorating the house
And ridding myself of everything

That reminded me of her
And I was free
My life was once more on an even keel
The stormy seas had been quelled
All was calm and safe
And there was such comfort

In feeling safe
The wounds had healed
Though the scars remained
I had peace of mind
When I could say

I had forgotten her

And I had forgotten her
Until that fateful day
When I found it
Down the side of the sofa
A small pearl button
Such an innocuous item
Evoking such potent memories
Of a violet lamb’s wool sweater
That accentuated her breasts so well
The button was a casualty

Of an intimate encounter
Discarded in our passionate haste
And in that instance of recognition
She was all at once back with me
My senses reawakened
Her scent was in my nostrils
I could feel her lips on mine
Her caress on my cheek
I could hear her infectious laughter
And I saw her sitting beside me
Close enough to touch
And as the wounds reopened
I realised to my dismay that

I had not forgotten her

I had not forgotten her
I had just shut down
Disabled my interface with the world
I hid away in my castle

And pulled up the draw bridge
And created my own world within
I held the button in my fingers
As the drawbridge lowered

And my castle walls fell
And the world flooded in
That little pearl button
Spoke to me in volumes
And I knew I loved her still

BUTTERFLY SUMMER

 

I remember well, when we were young

And all those long halcyon days

We spent so many joyful hours

Just idling our time away

Down on her dad’s farm.

They were such happy lazy days

Swinging on that old rustic gate

Fishing in the mill pond,

Pooh sticks on the stream

And roaming the countryside

With nothing particular to do

And a world of time to do it in.

They were truly wonderful days

Pleasure filled days, innocent days,

Before the end of childhood

But that was before those amazing weeks

Of that one very special summer,

So many summers ago now,

When she transformed before my eyes,

A little more each day, into something new

Like a butterfly, emerging from its cocoon

Spreading its glorious wings in the sun

Displaying a previously unseen beauty.

A wonderful transformation

When she magically changed

From the cutely naive country girl,

An awkward and ungainly tomboy,

Into an altogether more graceful being

A beautiful young woman,

Though I was fond of the grubby faced girl

With the unruly hair, wispy and uncombed

But fondness paled and I very soon fell in love

With the beautiful butterfly that had replace her

And with the emergence of the butterfly girl

Possessed of all the wondrous beauty

Of the first flower of spring

We trod an unfamiliar path

And left our childish games behind

Taking our first tentative steps towards love,

A love that was a stranger to us, an alien thing

Yet we stepped eagerly into its turbulent sea

And immersed ourselves in its waters

We knew at once that excitement of first love

When joy was all we could see

And all of our thoughts were only for each other

Sweet moments spent in blissful adoration

Until love was burnt deeply on our souls.

Now when we walk the familiar places

Of our distant youth, as we so often do

We can stand in that very spot

Where first I beheld the butterfly

Resplendent in the sunlight

And say to her with heartfelt sincerity

That I love her still