I search for the one

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.


As clouds float by

I awaken alone.

All is still and silent. 

The waves, the seagull and myself.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Chased

The hooves of HedgeHunter - It’s bets on horses. Lucky with Songster;  War veteran from fields in Leicestershire.   The blacksmiths labour; The book Black Beauty.  Jockeys race as cowboys arrive In Land Rovers with horseboxes.   The ghost of Shergar -  Vets hoover straw in paddocks And the Lords gallop for Trooping the Colour.   Fox hunters bugle in protest - A chase against time with the bell from the Church steeple.  Ears sharpen my voice, neck to neck - Good news - Red Rum to celebrate! Godspeed to the betting shop; His finger to his shaking lips, With ladies’ hats  And champagne for their winnings - All at Aintree, As I go to a play called ‘War Horse.’
Read more

Peter's story

A fishermen's tale in a book we dress in a carpet of dreams. Nine angels streaming over the hall Who drink the silver cup of loyalty. Songs lift the walls. That lonely traveller In a pew. Silent and forlorn. Families running verses through their fingers. So we cast with a pebble Life's ripples on a pond. Pick a star out of my pocket. Such an old door, confetti on the floor. Fairytales of dusty promises we made. Look at the candlestick so forlorn; With seeds of judgement, peg a page to Our hearts. Walk in two by two, an olive branch So many souls lost. Let fly with the wings of life. Painted skin Many a fold. Such is love, so pure in sunlight one's rose of beauty embers In a picture frame on the sideboard. Leadership arrives with four seasons; Nails so deep; the burden of so many Whose table is laden. We give with gifts and Shove them a drawer such lies flame our sins. A suitcase in Sunday best, for who shall trespass into the wilderness? Be di...
Read more

My Rant

This is to the wicked witch with your false promises - You'd better wave your magic wand and sort it, As the NHS need a massive injection of millions To support people like us. They’re just a bunch of pirates, Robbing from disabled people In their chest on a desert island. Every four years there’s an empty Christmas box Of promises from their party. I'm sick of them - They’re just privileged idiots  Who fiddle their expenses and pocket money In their piggy bank. I'm sick of their game of chess In a game of Brexit - Or they’re playing political marbles. These days it’s like they’re on a biblical mission In search of some wise men bearing no gifts; Or they sit around with stiff upper lips, Drinking whiskey and hope the country’s problems go away. Well this country’s a mess; Our little island owned three-quarters of the world once And fought in three continents With a little bit of help from the Americans - And now they’re selling it off at a car boot sale! ...
Read more