Thankful

 

A whistlestop tour of the world, adorably

adorned in sequin gown, the life I adore,

and her stunning sound. Each stop a

destination to be thankful for,

from where the journey began

to where the train rolls in, so many songs sung.

 

So, whistle me a melody - for I may be no dancer,

but I have a soul singing in time to the internal

beat of my own clocks.

 

I have my smile, my hair, a glint in my eye,

and a devil-may-care, smooth swagger

when I stare at the moon, as dancing feet feel no fear.

 

I have my home, the grass beneath clodden hooves,

the roof sheltering me, truth carved into stone.

My blood in the walls, my heart on tiles for all to see.

A place to always return when night starts to fall,

an open door, my heart a sanctuary for all.

 

I have my town and all its storied paving stones,

each a memory a ghost has roamed.

Every footstep a song to be sung.

 

So, sing for me, a melody of living. And I'll swing

my hips in time, making my eyes glance high to

see the beauty inherent in you.

 

I have my words with which I build worlds,

brick foundations, solid grounding. Peace, love,

and poetry in every smile I pour onto the crowd.

I have the lightning when storms come to ride,

embracing the darkness as much as the light.

 

And I hold love in every atom, for the family

I have formed from words and shared times,

and the one I was born into - the belief they

have in me, the faith they place at my feet

to always walk the right way, and the hand

given when I stride clean off the pathway

to forge my own identity.

 

I have more love internally, a whole seascape

of emotions. Memories of hearts that waded

through my oceans, happy days I won't let get

clouded by misty skies.

And the love to come, with the cover of love's

book open wide for that special someone.

 

And the memories of those who walked

so I could run, the loved ones gone before

time really began, burning in my heart like

our blinding sun.

 

So, sing for me a melody of love, and I'll write

you a thousand songs in reply. For whilst the

body will one day fall, the heart and soul never die.

 

I have my life, every pulse of blood a blessing.

Every miswired electrical signal to my mainframe,

a wonder to behold. Every muscle ache, every

feeling I get to hold, every sickness, every cold,

proof I'm still standing when, truth be told,

I should be cold and buried.

 

So, gratitude to the gods that I don't believe in,

but if I look around at the world for a second,

I can see her winking, a playful smile on her face.

 

So, sing me a melody, a lilting sonic symphony

and I'll sway beneath the sun and moon,

and I'll write a million words to say

how life is so wonderful,

and my heart beats for all of you.

Lay a rose

 

And I repent for my sins,

as I repaint my skin in brighter tones,

and I find in my mind a new home.

For I walk now

with angels and demons,

a wicked grin and a love inside.

And the saints can march

wherever they please,

for in this, my home,

the path you take is

yours to choose,

and I'll cheer you on

in whatever you do.

 

And I lay a rose on

the grave of my woes,

for where those past fears lie,

a new bloom always grows. I'll weep,

and I'll whisper a sweet heartfelt goodbye,

for to walk with you as a companion

was a life I'd never replace with one

forged in less fire.

 

And all the Valentines returned to sender,

I'll retain the melody of your heartbeat.

For this tender soul

knows love is not always

a smooth waterway, but a sea

that has stormy seasons

and waves always crashing.

 

And I repent for the times I took the wrong

turns on this winding maze of roads,

but each one was a lesson learned,

a story earnt. And a moment

I'll recount when time runs down.

And if I build up enough of those,

then my final moments will be

a masterpiece of cinematic majesty.

And when the curtain falls,

and when time calls for me

to cross the great divide,

I'll take my strides with pride,

because you sowed in me

seeds that I can't hide,

and I sprinkled mine

so far and so wide.

 

And I repent for any sins

I may have let wander in

when I opened my heart to

welcome the rain, but even the pain

was a part of my story to behold.

And if I make any impact at all,

let it be this...

Take the hand of those closest

and kiss - for love is the sweetest

of our stories.

Melted butter

 

The summer sun spreads

like melted butter,

sandwiching the sky

and the land below.

 

And I lay, thinking

of that face, that hair.

That smile caught

in glorious eyes,

the beauty that sways

inside the heart that stole mine.

 

And I'd gladly never

reclaim that heart as my own.

 

For that heart is a memory

forged from molten stone,

and belongs to her alone.

 

But if I was to break

this spell, then would the love

shower in warming rain,

or would fierce storms

throw their shade on me,

drench me from head to feet,

leave me in tears.

A seat at the table of grief?

 

So, I let the thoughts

never breach reality,

a beach never to feel its sea.

A shoreline

out of the waves' reach.

But I still leave the words

for you to feast, a meal fit

for a queen.

 

Table set, I walk away.

 

But then as a new dawning

sunshine beams down on me,

I feel again that pull of love.

But now I'm happy,

because my heart still beats.

And the heart of desire

can be replete,

knowing that someday

the plate will sit empty

when I return

to this seaside sanctuary.