Humidity

Humidity covers the many layers of you with dew, for you thrive like a succulent in the wet.

I expand and contract in accordance with the seasons. Sometimes, such as humid times, I expand, while in colder times I contract.

You thrive while I contract today. It’s your heaven and my hell.

Then, as if the sky knows who I am, the clouds break and the cool rain falls on to our skin.

The bossy One

It’s Spring, yet the cold eats
into my flesh and bones to make
my hands and feet feel numb.

Winter hasn’t done her duty yet,
for she wishes to hang on and
feel the way she makes us feel.

Spring keeps scolding Winter
for being so bossy,
but we all know that Winter
is like an older sister
who loves the younger one so
and cannot let go.

It’s Spring,
but I’m glad Winter is near,
for I do love her
and
the way she makes me feel.
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Little things

The posts have not been flowing because I moved house. 

Furthermore, my writing is taking a bit of a turn on some levels.  The Poems for the Home range is still going to be posted here and there, but I’m branching out into other territory.  It would not be right for me to remain stagnant and one dimensional. I enjoy mixing it up a little too much. 

Thank you for coming along on the journey.  There is more to come, but the directions are many

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Ourselves

A crisp lightness fills the spaces and brings a glimpse of spring to the winter day. I have nothing but you and my pain, which sets my mind racing.

A flimsy love between two independent souls, both longing for the rain to wash their sadness clean; two souls haunted by fear of failure, of not being the favoured child, of living with selves harder on themselves than any other person.

If money was not required in this capitalistic hell, we would be free to be ourselves.

I’m on the train now going to ruin my life again, but I have you through the ages; you and me against the world, ready to live once again.