A playground for dancing feet

 

These streets

where love never skips a beat.

A playground for dancing feet.

With the music in my heart

and a swing in my step

I reach for the stars.

 

Will you take flight with me?

 

Come share in the night.

 

We can sing

our lungs to the sky.

Raise our voices

as loud as we can.

Then we will fly.

 

One heartbeat at a time.

 

Take my hand

underneath the silver mirror ball moon

and just swirl through

the dark with me.

I’ll show you the lightest of touches.

If you raise your voice, sing to the sky,

lift your eyes and look into mine,

you will see a fire inside.

A universe burning to hold you tight.

 

Come share in this delight,

I’ll show you the highs.

I’ll show you the light.

Come,

and we will taste

all the flavours

of the night.

Come

and we can levitate

across the milky way.

 

We can sing as loud as we want,

no one will hear, no one will care.

We have our own sky,

and we can pluck the stars

to save for future days

and we will always have the song

in our hearts.

So, let’s dance.

Trust in the heart inside

and let our hips sway

long into the night.

On that day

 

On that day

somewhere when the sun

sinks a little lower in the sky,

when the angels sing

their last song to me.

I don’t want to look at my time

through regretful eyes.

I want to think of the times

I spent bounding on clouds

with companionship

the only boat that sailed

over the oceans of mine.

 

I don’t want to replay

always walking the other way,

or the doubts that crept into place.

I don’t want to regret that face

which sings so beautifully to me.

For if I never say how I feel,

how can life be real anyhow?

I just want to know that

happiness was my only vice,

and that I did everything I could

to make this place just a little nice.

 

When the choir sings me away,

I don’t want to look back and see

a world where I was not brave enough

to say what I really wanted to say.

I want to know

that I have spent my time

in the happiest place I can find,

with the beautiful woman

that occupies my mind.

 

So, I will lay myself bare,

I’ll open my heart right here,

every word I write is for you,

every smile I’ve worn is true.

Every time I’ve said

how much I love what you do,

It’s true, because you sing

so perfectly to me.

On a level deeper than

I could ever express,

I just know that this life

is supposed to be us.

You flow with the elegance

of a daffodil in a spring breeze

and

I’ve spent so many nights,

unable to see my dreams

because every time I look

I see you in the images I find.

 

And if I had to give up all I am,

if I was a beggar with nothing

except the shirt I have on,

I’d still hang on every moment of time I can,

just to get a chance to share a life with you.

Because I feel a connection

that speaks only in magic,

the sparks sit deep

and my heart zips when I see you about.

I am in no doubt. So, I lay myself bare,

every scar I wear, I’ll tear them from my skin.

Every heartbreak I’ve ever experienced,

I’ll place gently in histories rubbish bin.

Because none of them mean a thing,

when all I can think of you and me flying,

the wind in our hair, and the feeling

of love growing.

Mars

 

Spring has sprung.

Dandelions and daffodils

grow at the roadside

where birdsong is sung,

The field of green dotted

with buds of sunlight yellow.

Buttercups and daisies,

a bouquet of plenty

as the sky opens,

a shower to feed the

nourishing earth.

A mother to all who stand

upon her strong shoulders.

The first sprigs of rebirth

for hungry life to find its way.

 

A jogger strides across my eyes,

Smiles a wide grin, says hi,  

as the gently sun shines

from on high.

A sign that life is returning

after the cold death of winter.

Child in a buggy,

pushed by phone-cradling mother,

looks amazed

at the way the flowers sway,

and I think to myself,

don’t stop seeing

the magic in the everyday,

for it is all around us

in the way the world plays.

 

Springtime days

evaporate away

into moonshine nights.

Mars sits in the sky,

diamond lights twinkling bright,

as the march hares run through my mind.

Another season has sprung.

Time's cycles keep turning their wheels

as I listen to the choirs in my head,

shedding the overcoat of winter dread,

to put on the jacket of hope.

Life reborn, one day at a time,

and the fawn-like mind inside wobbles

on the canvas, inspiring the writer to play,

for an artist’s life is all in the way

we see the little aspects of a day.