Sunday, April 29, 2012

Matching Rhythms


Matching Rhythms



Way on down, below the skin,
My soul moves silently.
More than I the passion,
To declare this truth.
So why do you react,
Without using a caution?
Could it be a unity,
An all time love come true?

Pulses quicken, drawing breath,
I almost faint right here.
Deliciously close to your side,
Where I long to reside.
I sense our matching of rhythms,
Bring hope yet to be given.
Elating my soul to declare,
I seek my solace with you.




Classically Trained


Classically Trained




So you are on the fiddle,
oops sorry the violin.
Pluck, pluck draw squeal,
Ain't it like sawing steel ?

Hammering on the drums,
Sounds like a hurricane come.
Crashing with cymbals roar,
Resonating for ever more.

Blowing the child's plastic flute,
Could be a Voovoozela here.
Oh but you have a trained ear,
Knowing when the notes ring queer.

Fun on the shiny Euphonium,
Trumpets fill the classic note.
Blasting to the upper tiers,
And holding hands over my ears.


An Outrage !


An Outrage !



Tell me old sage,
Is there sense to wager,
Upon the love of a stranger?
Could I be a lone ranger,
To the cause without range,
Give life a new title page?
If I overlook differing age,
Would love take to the stage,
Before I come to stagnate?
Her eyes fan the flames to ignite,
Dreams of spending a night,
Calling love out into the light.
Being with her makes me lighter,
Fills my heart with a banter,
That I'd hope to decanter.
Where I am wholly devouter,
Will it be classed as an outrage,
Please tell me old sage.

Friday, April 27, 2012

A New Flame Has Come


A New Flame Has Come



Here is fire,                 
Here is wanton passion.

Here are dreams come true,
Here I'm knowing you.        


Here is a day of peace,   
Here the time has ceased.


Here stroking fire,                 
Here fanning flames of desire.

Here a girl with love,       
Here from sun and above.

Here the time to be,            
Here new flame come to me.



Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Butterfly


Butterfly



Bright colours,
you glide, flutter, abide.

So fascinating,
you soar, dive, twirl.

Copying life,
you rise, fall, subside.

Oh butterfly,
you love, light, leave.

My regret,
you leave, love, leave....


Ancient Relic


Ancient Relic


Fossilized in fear,
Moving between the words,
Caught in a new world,
Far away from here.

Distant sand shores,
Calling my old jaded fame,
Only know by a new name,
Opening only few doors.

Closer to heaven,
As the Eons roll by,
Filtered light entered my eye,
My soul almost leaven.



Monday, April 23, 2012

Kissing Dimples


Kissing Dimples



it is quiet in half light,
my body sated, aching.
I watch you dreaming,
and know you see it too.

but so oft' I have waited,
for this silent moment.
to feel connected to peace,
watching your shallow rest.

would you scold me,
for knowing my wanting ?
slumber has brought you,
to be achingly perfect.

and here I adore you,
even as I still crave you.
do you know better dreams,
whilst my eyes kiss your dimples ?


Becoming Two


Becoming Two



here at the dawn,
feeling maybe foolish, forlorn ?
a slight sense of guilt ?
peeking out from your quilt.
but elated and fresh,
grateful for your tenderness.
we have acted like kids,
lifting up all the lids,
on subjects to garner,
what we'd dream for Nirvana.
laughing at the madness,
of how swiftly we'd undress,
to learn as we go,
and take life in the flow.
forgetting old love sorrow,
as we race into tomorrow.
hoping we can prove true,
that dream of becoming two.


Lara Gribble Voice of young wisdom


Lara Gribble
Voice of young wisdom



'Twas mid Friday evening,
On the Mayo drive-time show.
Up pops a caller to ask,
For a song to add to the flow.

A bright little button,
Who really knew how to chat.
She replied in a manner,
That knew nothing of flat.

Recalling the days schooling,
She'd been making some stamps.
Featuring the founders of Rome,
Before heading out to a dance.

But what caught our attentions,
Was the way that she spoke.
Eloquent, thoughtful and totally light,
A sense of wonder, she could evoke.

When asked by Simon the host,
About friends from her class,
She revealed to us all, about
The trials of Lewis in a plaster cast.

Despite the broken arm mending,
His stamps had been the best.
She sang out his praises,
With a youthful, sweet zest.

The lilt of her voice,
Was just so pleasant to hear.
With an almost hypnotic tone,
Her conversation delivered so clear.

I'm sure the whole country,
Would agree with this pearl.
She brought a smile to our faces,
Telling us all, of her world.

And raised the mood of our weekends,
Choosing Billie Jean as her song.
What a credit to her parents,
With her pleasant manner so strong.

So let's bring her back on,
Correspondent to the Radio 2 arts.
Every week on Friday drive-time,
Would be a suitable start...

With the views of a child,
At our heart strings she'd nibble.
Bringing restored faith to our nation,
You are a joy, Lara Gribble......






and the drive-time crew.
Open link to listen again and scroll to 1:06:45 to hear her on the show. 

Please note the picture is not Lara, just a chosen image until perhaps I could add the real Lara , star of the show, with her parents consents

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Chest a minute !


Chest a minute !



Come on girls, I know it's almost summer,
I could be the only guy to observe,
How fine and healthy, shapely are curves,
But is there not, yet more to preserve ?

Full and ripe, those fruit bowls on display,
Melons topped with shiny cherries, drooling arouse.
Drive men crazy, and cause a macho mele,
When it's all on show, for us to observe...

I may be denounced here, by all other men,
But wouldn't it be sweeter, to keep something back ?
Corralling the wayward, may be a tough task,
I wonder your message, as so tightly they pack.




Didn't your mother tell you, it's rude to point,
Or keep covered up, for fear of a chill ?
And avoid unwanted attentions, from ogling men,
Keep control of your puppies, or they'll overspill.


 

These modern day fabrics, highlight your shape,
Promote how you've developed, to enormous size.
They leave red blooded males, agog and agape,
And to add to the drama, are our bulging eyes...



 
But don't misunderstand me, I love what you are,
See deeper than the announcement, of your huge beauty.
I delight in the power, or even the somewhat bizarre,
I won't try to deny, that you're really a cutey...!!!

Yet some men desire more, what they cannot see,
Find cherished a protection of, your blessed virtue.
And reel at the mystery, waiting to be set free,
Discovering over time, how to know you not hurt you.

I want you to know me, and how I enjoy you,
Working hard to attain your heart, not your body only.
So we can be lovers, playmates, colleagues or friends,
Spending our time together, not just riding the pony.








Saturday, April 21, 2012

The Tardis Disappears


The Tardis Disappears



If like me you're a fan,
Of the Time-Lord and his police-box,
Being here was a memory lane,
One where time eclipsed again.

Though I never saw the Doctor,
Who, his wormhole vehicle sat proud.
Bringing in the eager visitors,
Whipping up a camera clad crowd.

Someone with a brainchild,
To raise some tourist cash.
No doubt an eager entrepreneur,
Milking them, despite economic crash.

I turn to sip the steaming cup,
And take a bite of scone.
Suddenly, there's a whooshing groan,
And when I turn, the Tardis's gone...


Aunties Tea Shop Cambridge


Aunties Tea Shop
Cambridge



Ensconced between the lace,
The doilies and cake plates,
I spy a modern world passing.

Students of Law of Physics and
Of a world of adventure and more,
Glide elegantly over cobbled streets.

Tourists of every colour
Litter these ancient lanes,
Snapping, chatting even gawking at history.

And safely snuggled here,
Me with tea and scones,
Purveying a world that groans.


Friday 13th


  
  


Has evil earned a name,
Playing here a nasty game ?
Who the hell is left to blame,
If days would always end the same ?



Covens of Druid or Wizard folk,
Light a fire to billow smoke.
Will it all go beyond a joke,
When chants of spirits they provoke ?



Witches cauldrons full of broth,
Unlucky toads get heads cut off.
And as it all begins to froth,
Their voices raise their spells aloft.


It is the day of all hallows eve,
According to folklore if you believe.
A time to act what they conceive,
But these dark witches give no reprieve.



Candle Wacks


Candle Wacks



A Roman candle flickers,
Silly giggly girls snicker.

A blow to ignite,
Everything, within my sight.

Games of knowing pain,
Hot wax scolds again.

Then a paddle slaps,
Air trapped sounding smacks.

Followed by twisting nipples,
Excited spine sensing ripples.

Sophisticated woman performing art,
Her punishment becoming tart.



Friday, April 20, 2012

The Well


The Well



Drip......drip......
Drip.....plop.....
Kaleidoscopes of hope.
Filaments of opal light......



 
Alone.......silent......
Alone......final.....
purpose of rope,
Falling deep into night......

Drip......drip......
Drop......plop......
Snapping to cope,
Finalised out of sight.......










Thursday, April 19, 2012

Rhyming and Timing


Rhyming and Timing



You focus so much......
on only the awkward rhyming.....

And so you forget......
sadly....the precious art of ........
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
t
i
m
                  i n g....