Words of Love

Words of love often suppressed
Kindness taken for granted, unexpressed
Presumption of thoughts, norms and dreams
Seems we no longer talk of schemes
Drifting along feather light
Lack of communication, lack of fight

We need to look closely, see the whole
Clean the windows, throw light on the soul
View, the other objectively, eschew control

Words of love often suppressed
Feelings of love only a guest
Are doors locked tight, welded shut
Will we live our lives, forever undercut
Viewing each other from a place unexposed
Not pushing the gate for a loving repose
Words of love often unexpressed
Relationship sunk into mindlessness

Samantha Beardon ©

Poetry group.

Poets I am running a poetry group on facebook called Rising Moon Poetry. There are some great poets, we are trying different things like some poetry workshops, poetry discussion, critique and discussion of each others work. We want a lively cohort of poets to explore poetry as well as write it. Why not join us?

What makes?

What makes you smile?
Is it sometimes naughty?
or is it more pc
like high and haughty?
secret pleasure
or a combination of things
that tickle your fancy?
Make life zing
what sort of humour
makes you belly laugh?
what makes you grin?
what makes you smile?
when do you cackle
without guile?
what about the giggle, guffaw, te he he?
Do you ever sound like a jackal

snort and wheeze?
Expressions of humour happiness and glee
different drivers is what we see.

Duality

From a prompt Love tastes like …..

Duality

My Love feels like
I am wrapped
in a warm fluffy blanket
Safe sheltered succoured

My love can feel like
an icy draft stinging my eyes
Adding goosebumps to my skin
If the blanket slips

My love tastes like
Smooth and mellow chocolate
Sweet and melting on the tongue
sometimes lemon, almond and salty

My love can taste like
Pepper, mustard and vinegar mixed
harsh on the tongue bad for the stomach
Sometimes it tastes of chilli and spice – heated

My love sounds like
A celestial choir
Dr Hook at full volume
A playlist of romantic duets

My love can sound like
a child learning the recorder
An errant burglar alarm
The dawn chorus

My love is balanced between pleasure and pain

Cloud character

Cumulus clouds from which I coalesced
Creative spark the rhyme suggests
Pulling the magical strands from the air
Fashioning it, into sinews and hair.

Cumulonimbus prestiging stormy cries
Creating fiction, no compromise
Awaiting the lightening bolt to strike
Harnessing its energy, waiting to write.

Comulus clouds from which I coalesced
Character drawn from ether, feeling distressed
Walking the clouds, light as thistledown
Focus unclear, staying up or falling clown.

Cumulonimbus prestiging stormy cries
Classic tale or dystopian lies
Boxing the thunder grabbing the sparks
Maybe to underline, the unorthodox.

Head in the clouds is where they seem to be
The author’s misty figure is not what you see.

I also wrote this in a more free verse style which do you prefer?

Cumulus clouds from which coalesced
The creative spark in rhyme, or yet
Pulling magical strands from the air
Fashioning it, into words not pairs.

Cumulonimbus prestiging stormy cries
Shout till hoarse, new Virgin lines
Await the lightening bolt to strike
Harness its energy, burn to write.

Comulus clouds from which I coalesced
Character drawn from ether – underscore
Walking the clouds, light as gossamer thread
Balance hard, focus unclear.

Cumulonimbus prestiging stormy sighs
Classic verse, free wheeling style – form
Box the thunder grab the sparks
Might underline, the unorthodox.

Poetry in the clouds is where it seems to be
The poets’s misty figure is not what you see.

On the edge

On the edge of a cliff above the abyss

As you reach for me , the world is on fire
The sky lights up with my desire
The moon grows larger and expands
Grows greater with the touch of your hands

Enslaved by the luminosity
Mesmerised by the light of curiosity
I focus on that beautiful moon
It seems, to melts to your tune

Stands on a cliff above the abyss.

Portrait of you

There is no mistaking you,

Standing poised by the jeep, surrounded by fractured light
as the sun bounces off metal and glass,
Your head thrown back, emitting sounds, that I cannot hear,
Although I am imagining, the infectious
booming laughter, rolling from your lips.

As I move closer, you shift, showing
a chistled profile, under the blue baseball cap,
The chunky solidity of your form in shorts and blue shirt,
legs planted apart the golfers stance even at ease.

I walk quietly towards you, but some sixth sense,
Causes you to turn,and I am caught
mesmerised. By the brightness if your gaze,
Those glorious grey eyes flecked with gold
Dominant your tanned face. Drawing me into your world,

I see the colours, the colours of the African day,
Reflected in the honey toned clarity of your skin,
The vividness of your eyes, the silver of the
stubble glinting on your chin, the crows feet
wrinkles, mirroring the drought parched land.

Firm lips. Corners kinked into the hint of a smile,
Open, to speak words in accentless English,
Always a suprise given your antecedents,
There is a hint of croaky gravelliness in your diction,
Some harshness evident, registering impatience.

You turn back, then lope off with long strides, lithe as a big cat,
Your controlled movements, denote a man of action,
How can you be defined?
Your charm, friends, words, the books you read, the inner man?
Your impatience, impetuousness.
All set upon a background of the African sky.