Poetry is my therapy

I walk the beach alone Just a shadow, looking for love.  The sea races back and forth; Dry and salty lips.  The sand is cooling, The breeze is tantalising  As I wander in search of ‘The One’.  We have the gift And the gift to make a baby.  So reliant for everything - Unconditional love. Their smile with such joy.  An inquisitive, innocent person;  They ask the most amazing questions.  Our souls as one mother and father  On a perfect summer’s day.  Sunlight dances as a mirage.  The perfume of the pine trees.  The sun is mesmerising. A picnic of champagne and strawberries  As we sit and lay naked.  We stare into each other’s eyes, Hands caressing each other’s skin.  The intimacy of love.  You feel every inch of me.  Our hearts race, Sweat runs down my face As we bite lips, An earthquake erupts.  A heavenly sensation of lust and passion....

There is a place of hope On a forgotten battlefield.  The young draw their knives; Slash, cut of blood In a gang feud.  As we cuddle our children  A black bag lies - A meaningless gift of life On a sidewalk of graffiti.  No menace, no tears An arrow with a stare.  The feud is pointless. A shriek wipes the drum beat; A hum.  The black raven crows, The chapel bell chimes; The Grim Reaper knocks as we sleep. Death demands my eyes.  The judge says “Guilty” For I sin; even Satan fears me.  “I shall use you as I please  Down on your knees, whore! Worship my feet, I am the beast. You shall eat me for dinner.  I am the Master! Hate, hate, hate me! The pain.... Hurt me, bitch!” As I bite and scratch  I pull your hair; With fire I lust for the orgy; This meat on a plate.  The snake spits; Your fury is my wrath!  I lie, this debt is mine Of adultery.  I a...

The heat!  I can fry an egg on a path in Turkey  On an August morning.  The warmth of a fire on a cold, bleak day; The feeling as I soak up Vitamin D.  The memory of the bath is soothing.  With a weeping willow all is joy.  I remember the colour of the everlasting sand.  On my finger a snowflake crystallises, Particles of mass shine down upon me.  A dry fire of ash.  Now life begins -  A path of ice is a faultless cover on a pond.  A Polar Bear wanders in starvation.  With a spring in my step I ride the globe of life.