poem: ode to my queerly beloved

oh! to be

queerly old fashioned

with thee;

indeed, when thou hast shed the skin

of that pretense

which, long since, poorly had you worn –

thy truer self would agree,

that apt those words describe

what we have always been;

for well we know,

how strange the un-straight path

has weather’d us to normal seemed;

(indeed with strangeness we have taken

tenancy);

perhaps we could compare

our much imagined lunacies?

tho’ rather would i taste again

those queer, old fashioned,

truthful kisses.

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poem: on restoring vision

i will see thee, as i saw thee

and know thee as i did;

though better seen thy will be,

where, once, thou was hid.

 

you will see me, as you saw me,

knowing better what i knew;

and that mine eye indeed was clear,

and saw thee, love, and saw thee true.

 

our lips out loud shall speak,

what is whispered in these prayers;

and eyes this time will meet,

knowing love doth greet us there.

for tho’ mine eye is sore

from long denied thy dearest face;

it’s sight will be restored,

and its light, renewed, with grace.

.

Poem: light to mine eye

through all of the storms that have tossed me to sea;

through fog, smog and hurricane,

and windswept cold quays –

this one thing I’ve known, I’ve known long to be true

these eyes that God gave me,

he gave me for you

through days of warm sunshine and whispers of truth

kissing the skin of the apple that youth,

long plucked from the top of God’s tree;

but that which is love is also

so wise – and love gave me eyes to see,

the youth at the top of his tree;

for though long the journey, ’tis not been unknown

and sorrow not stifles this constant heart grown,

for  hearts never hidden cannot be disguised –

and fear did not paint those starry bright skies;

tis true and cannot be denied

thank you God, for giving me eyes.

 

Poem: Celestial Navigation

When in moments, or in minutes, or in hours

When the safe shore of day, that you are home

Seems still so very far away;

When the waiting ache laps against my soul, and seeks

to trouble me with tears forever more

my poets soul reaches for thee;

That by some magic of poor words we might feel,

Closer to that day when we reach

That safe and happy shore.

 

Poem: You Are

You are the undiscovered country

I never thought that I would find;

You are the buried treasure, the

Seam of gold they never mined.

You are the catching breath,

The trembling heart that never rests;

You are static electricity, surprising,

Rushing joyously.

But stillness too, and sudden bliss,

Entwined in peaceful, perfect rest;

You are the colours of creation,

You are the curious sensation.

And when the passion calms,

In the well within your arms,

The precious truth still shines bright to see

That loving you is like coming home

to me

Poem: Forgive Before Bedtime

There’s no set rules, my Nan would say

– each two make love work their own way

Learning how best to take care of each other

How to respect, love tenderly and nurture;

There’s no set rules, but this she said

That there is one that keeps love best:

Never take an argument to sleep between each other,

Resolve, respect, forgive and live, in love with one another.

I let the worries and the woes, pile up one on the other

I let the distance cloud my mind,

I let fear stalk too close behind,

Oh darling I am sorry that they ruled my heart today.

Forgive me love, and here’s a kiss

Scented sweet for your sleeps bliss

And ever now, as always and before

I love you, and can only love you more.

Poem: On Being Stubborn

Stubbornly, you have insisted

(whilst you are disguised)

That silence is for comfort

(Please recall, love is not blind)

And love does not demand you speak,

 what you feared must stay disguised

Nor seek to pull a string, or drag you home

 though oft love cries

Oh darling, I am stubborn

But dearest, so are you

For stubbornly you still test love

and wander to, and fro

Oh Gruff, enough, and hear me now

 please let your heart hear this

I love you, I do not doubt you

 It is true

(And I stubbornly insist on this to you).

 

 

Poem: Mr Gruff

Mr Mystery, do your woes

Call you – still – to test love so,

Or has a nervous worry

made you spiky, porcupine?

Worry not, most dearest heart,

For love remains in tact and true,

And the day is not a bother

When that day is full of you

Oh Mr Gruff, if not today

That I can smile and say your name

Then the day is still to come

And love will wait with open arms.

But whilst those arms are weary

From the troubles I have too,

Please, Gruff, tease me gently

And remember

I love you.

 

Poem: A Further Question…

So, our bodies

do not work

the way convention says they should;

But, it means

we can explore

the endless ways love can reveal

the different ways to live

the love we are both

truly worth

And if the place

we leave to make

that life of endless exploration

is not the place convention

might demand;

it matters not

when the place of destination

is still – naturally –

the love and joy

we are both worth

Poem: A Question…

You want to give;

To make the world a better place

For those you love –

You want to give,

But worry in yourself

If you are enough.

And you think;

Oh, how you think!

About the life

You want to give

To make a better place to live

in love;

But worry in yourself

If you could ever be enough.

I think, too;

Of all I want to give

To make the world a place

Where you can live,

In love.

But worry in myself

If I could ever be enough;

When we do not doubt

each other

Why do we doubt

ourselves?

Why let that doubt rob us

of all the love

we are

both worth?