Monday, 7 August 2017

The D word

Nothing new, nothing changed,
Nothing that hasn't been said:
She's dead.
Not passed, not gone,
Not, no longer with us:
She's, dead.
So I'm a different me
And We're a different we.

The more things stay the same
The more he is different,
Without, because she died.
Widowed, left behind
Fending all alone
- And he has, found strength,
More love than I knew he had.
A better man? A different he -
So We're a different we.

Everything is new
So much has changed
A seed was sown
Already so grown,
In a role unknown, evolved so well
-  But she's dead
So won't see that She's a different she
And We're a different we.

I was changed... for good?
When I watched her die.
Everything is different
I’m not the me she saw.
Much older now and weather worn
I found new. Moved
On to moments never shared.
A different me; A better I?
A different, 'different we'.

Saturday, 5 August 2017


Sunflowers in line
Standing at attention
Facing their maker, dressed in cheerful gold
Lines, rows; perfectly ruled
Nodding with the weight of their smile.

Swaying at length with the rhythm of the wind
Green wisps of hair tickle at their chin
A chorus of yellowness, bathing in blue
What are they waiting for; who do they call?
The call to me, a call from you.