The Wave

The wave goes through the motion,
And with the power of the ocean
Sweeps it all away.
These great powers at play,
But I wonder if he is still there:
Alone with his soul laid bare.
I cast my eyes down in a fearful anticipation,
And look upon the space with a sense of hesitation…
But there is nothing left: he’s gone,
And moved on to the great beyond.

Storm

Even though even the remnants of the sunset were gone,
The brightest light was next to me.
She illuminated the clouds as they turned pink,
And it may as well have been raining roses.

The whirling wind was in our face,
But I wouldn’t mind if it kept us in that place forever;
A quiet place in the eye of the storm
Where we could hide out together.

At Last

The music softly plays,
Its tune flows through the air
As I run my fingers through your hair.

It is my perfect place:
Of peace, comfort, it’s our cocoon
With our hearts beating to the same tune.

Your smell, and love, the trace
Left behind on my shirt and face;
After our far from final, perfect embrace.

Rain Dance

Dancing on the rain
Without a care in the world.
Drop to drop,
Step to step,
In tune with the uncaring clouds,
And the beat of those longing heart strings.

It all leads to you.
And here we are:
Our heads held high,
Facing the sun in the sky;
Basking in the never ending beams of light
That only meet our eyes.

Sunny Day

The sun’s only out
When you’re around.
I watch it sink into the ground,
With you in my arms
And some of your hair that keeps going into my mouth.

But when you’re here,
There’s not a single cloud in the sky;

Our only company are the sun,
And that shitty little fly.

Eleven O’Clock

It was on that old second-hand pull-out sofa,
That I found myself.
A glass that was emptied too many times, in my hand
And your head on my shoulder.
Melancholic music softly played in the background,
And was only overshadowed by our eleven o’clock breathing.

It was you, me, and the two perfect sinners:
Living in a heaven where we may still cry.

(PS: No longer adding the date to each poem as it’s unnecessary, and was a left-over habit from when this was a daily poetry journal)

01/06/2021 – Untitled Poem

My doubts could not stay silent,
And neither could I.

I could see the end coming,
And made a feeble attempt to hide;

Now in your mind,
It is I, that you despise.

The blame is not all mine,
As our actions were seen by four eyes.

We clung to each other and tried to tread lightly,
But we hung on too tightly.

Alas, now that we’re awake:
You are you,
And I am me.