For what we yearn.

However you mark it,
However you dissect,
It’s about marking the changes,
And how we connect.
It’s how we track memories,
And lessons to learn,
It’s understanding our hearts,
And for what we yearn.

Another day.

Today’s words to be saved,
For another time.
They are far too potent,
To be released in to rhyme.
I know, and that’s what matters.
I know.  I can see.
Another day, I’ll go there.
Another time, they’ll be set free.

This stubborn groove.

I feel a need to shift,
To shuffle, to plan,
To move this around,
To do what I can.
I need that next step,
I need a lifeline of hope.
It’s what keeps me buoyant.
It helps me to cope.
I need to shift,
To shuffle, to move.
I need to wax,
This stubborn groove.

Riding out.

I know when my strings are pulled.
I know you need the lift,
But the tugging tends to tear, rip,
And there’s nothing left to gift.
I cannot deliver what you want,
Perhaps not what you need,
I have my own heart to take care of,
My own soul to feed.
I will do my best, in honesty,
But I don’t think you’ll think it enough.
I am riding out this journey,
But you need to know it will be tough.

To fate.

I cannot always jump to your mood,
Cannot always soothe or fix.
I have other hearts to tend to,
There are more things in the mix.
The chip you choose to carry,
Can be too heavy a weight.
There are times I desperately need to breathe,
And I must leave the results to fate.

Your blood.

Better than expected,
Means gratitude and thanks.
Still I long for home,
And the shoring up of banks.
The efforts that you make,
To make a journey smooth,
Can put you in a place,
Where it feels hard to move,
With any ease or freedom,
But they’re for the greater good.
Sometimes the things you do,
You do purely for your blood.

You will.

As the thing that you are greatful for,
Quietly slips away,
And the thing that fear,
Starts to head your way,
Hold on to the memories,
Hold on to tomorrow’s hope.
You WILL manage this.
You WILL cope.

And all after.

Some days are for dreaming.
This may not be that day.
Some days are for surviving,
Making memories that way.
All days are for remembering,
That we have our own worth.
Whether you see it today, or not,
Someone saw it at your birth.
Some days are for others,
Some days are just for you.
Whatever this day brings,
Tomorrow’s day, and all after,
Are days that start anew.

Near.

There will never be perfect,
Never the dream,
But I will keep on this journey.
I will send out a beam.
I’ll be the lighthouse,
And the port in the storm.
I will be what it takes.
I will take any form.
It will never be perfect.
There will always be fear,
But she will feel that I tried,
And when she called I was near.

Cope.

I have no place to belong right now,
Except by her side.
This life has sent me spinning,
And so I chose to hide.
I see glimpses of a stable,
I see glimpses of a home.
I have no trust to give though,
And so my soul will roam.
I can sense something stirring.
I want to give her hope.
I want her to be free to fly.
I just need to move past cope.

If only life.

Are all my efforts futile?
Is it here, no matter the work?
Do things wait in the darkness?
Though I try hard, will they still lurk?
Will they still appear when I relax,
When I start to enjoy the good?
I want to enjoy these moments.
Oh if only, life, I could.

Stand.

Life keeps teaching lessons.
Today’s was loud and clear.
You may rely on someone once,
And you may hold them dear,
But there’s no guarantee for tomorrow,
They may walk a different road.
This reality may wind you,
And the sense of loneliness goad,
But you always have your self,
And others may lend a hand.
You have to make your own way,
Even if they help you stand.

Another door.

When what you did for you starts slipping,
When you always come in last.
You have to think about the future,
And not about what’s past.
You have to decide what’s best for you now,
Not what was best before.
But always keep an eye out.
You might soon need another door.  

What’s left.

Whatever trust that was there? It’s gone.
For good and, I think, for all.
My insides are singed.
I cannot let these barriers fall.
Don’t judge me for my reticence.
Don’t chastise me for my fear.
I have been burnt, I’m ashes,
But what is left of me is here.

How to cope.

It’s when you’re not looking,
When your focus is taken,
That these things happen,
And leave you shaken.
It’s when you’re riding,
On another wave,
That the rug is whipped from your feet,
And you’ve a path to pave.
Should I feel guilty,
That I slid in to hope,
Or should I be glad,
That I know how to cope?

Your locus.

Breathe, breathe,
Shuffle things round.
Breathe, breathe,
Follow the sound,
Of your heart finely beating,
Your rhythm, your drum.
This is what you asked for,
And tougher times are to come.
Breathe, breathe,
Shut them out, focus.
Breathe, breathe,
And you’ll find your locus.

Be kind to the givers.

Not enough,
Hours in the day,
Not enough,
Bits left to play.
I am feeling each pull.
I am trying to stretch.
I am going without sleep.
At times am a wretch.
I am doing my best,
In a time not ideal.
They are judging my choices,
But don’t ask how I feel.
I do long for the peace,
That clarity delivers.
We may not be perfect,
But please be kind to the givers.

Second best.

Patience, love, acceptance,
Is what genders trust.
You will not gain the love,
If you don’t think they’re a must.
I reap my rewards,
From the hours I’ve invested.
You would reap the same,
And you would not then feel bested,
If you chose humility and patience,
Gratefulness and care.
We must always come a second best,
That’s how they know we care.

Drops of fear.

You can’t fully embrace the joy,
When there’s a shadow overhead.
You can have a moment,
But the shadow wants to be fed.
It will ever quick remind you,
That the joy’s not yours to keep.
The gold dust at your feet,
Can be gone with one quick sweep.
This knowledge hangs above you,
It sprinkles drops of fear.  
It sometimes taints my metal,
And stops my view from being clear.

How I feel my wealth.

It’s as though I am literally holding,
My heart in my hands.  
This is the love I feel,
And this is how it stands.
As illness takes over you,
And you fall asleep on me.
I am trapped beneath your weight,
But do not wish to be set free.
I want to be your pillow,
Your blanket and your bed.
I want to be the place,
Where you choose to lay your head.
I want you not to need me,
To quickly return to health,
But the fact that you have chosen me,
Is how I feel my wealth.

When she is older.

Too much in the mind,
Can mean too little done.
Too much on the list,
Can leave no time for fun.
I am listening to her words,
I am hearing what they say.
I am trying my current best,
But must provide by end of day.
Have I got the correct balance?
Is it just the weight she cannot grasp?
Perhaps when she is older,
I’ll be brave enough to ask.

Stomach full

When your stomach is full of bees,
Days pass in a buzzing blur.
Everything that happens,
Is mixed in with the stir.
You long for safe resting,
For the moment you’ll lay your head.
You may sleep for a while.
Some nights you’ll wonder instead.
If you are there, in rumination,
I wish you gentle peace.
I wish you breath of purer air,
And the bees release.

Quiet sleeping poison.

It’s the quiet sleeping poison,
That hits your stomach when it’s stirred.
Your heart, it has not changed,
But their vision will have been blurred.
It’s a terrifying thought,
That a question will always wait.
No matter how pure your heart,
You have no control over your fate.

Why we’re here.

I would have done things differently,
But would it have been as in my mind?
Whilst you are blaming me,
Am I also being unkind.
Would it have been as special as I imagine?
Would something else have sparked a fear?
I would do things differently,
But have a role in why we’re here.

Clique.

I don’t know how to process,
How I feel about today.
I suspect there are many lessons,
And prices I will pay.
I sense it could be addictive,
Perhaps it’s right it stays unique.
There is absolutely something,
About being welcomed into a clique.

A sense of peace.

Some things are harder than they should be.
I am testament to that.
As are so many others.
Yet we still wear our jaunty hat.
We are not ready to lose face.
We are not ready to release.
We want to deliver against our journey,
And find a sense of peace.

By this light.

By this light, I am led.
By this light, I lay my bed.
By this light, I search my soul.
By this light, I set my goal.
By this light, I plan my day,
And so this light becomes my way.
Yet, by this light, I see your face,
And by this heart, I know my place.

How our souls are fed.

Each little step matters,
When you know the journey’s long.
Each little light breaking through,
The darkness, keeps you strong.
Such strange things you will celebrate,
When the days are shrouded grey.
Things that have seemed nothing,
Once upon a day,
Are suddenly the push you need,
To inspire your legs to tread.
This is how our mind works,
And how our souls are fed.

Just cause.

Too many actions feel like distractions.
I am jumping between the deeds.
Yet it is because of necessity.
It’s to try and meet the needs.
I know time could be better placed,
But you need investment to pause.
There will be a point where things shift,
But sometimes you need just cause.

My core.

Your face spoke to my heart.
You were not at a place of ease.
You did not have the light,
Or even a wish to please.
There was something that wasn’t right,
In you. It was clear you were not sure.
Whenever you’re not glowing,
I feel it in my core.  

This unstable ground.

There are some words,
That you feel when you hear.
I felt them today,
As I felt them last year.
It brought a tear to my eye,
And a burn to my heart.
Last year it was an omen.  
Was today a start,
Of a personal journey,
Or just a comforting hug?
Have seeds now been planted,
In the earth that was dug,
Below my feet - this unstable ground.
You have to be lost,
To then be found.

Together.

Being present is the present,
Underneath her Christmas tree.
I am ever conscious of this,
But there’s someone else I need to be.
Love is essential, but does not feed.
Does not house and does not clothe.
I do not like this look on your face,
But your hunger I would loathe.
I hope I achieve true balance,
Tomorrow, if not today.  
I hope you understand, eventually,
And that together we find our way.