A blog to showcase the intricacies of poetry. To explore a little of the human condition and to highlight the poetry of Samantha Beardon.
Allowing me to be me
Is all you really need to do, you see
Walking by my side
Not pushing in front or lagging behind
Accepting how I feel
Not trying to force the deal
Loving the person, the self
Not trying to turn me into something else
Enabling me to grow
Not stopping me or feeling low
Friend or lover you truly love me
If you can be happy that the me is me
That my friend sets me free
Allows our love to truly be
Lush, verdant, tropical forest
Moistness peaking, feeding the torrent
Sinking to the mossy floor
Staring at each other, overawed
Cheeks flushed pink, breathing fast
Exquisite feelings, a superb repast
Limbs entwined, holding tight
Looking beautiful in the dappled light
Lust or love, in the moment
All feelings combine, maybe later atonement
Lush, verdant, tropical forest
Nature’s bounty a necessary endorsement
Today is the start of a new story
The past is not erased it will spill into today
However your choices will form the framework
And decide the ending.
I cope with my life in my tried and tested ways
Spreading out my love and keeping fears at bay
I know that I have a boundless, store of love, to give
So no need to horde it, I can let it live
I am less certain about receiving love
Or sharing other parts of me, some of me is bluff
My dreams are horded close and rarely shared
Illusions, I try to spot then change or kill
But some exist against my will
My tolerance is kept in a box
I try my best to keep it unlocked
Diplomacy is sometimes in short supply
My bag of diplomacy often seems to run dry
Irreverence and humour come from a well
I drink from it regularly I am under its spell
My inhibitions pop into my mind
Stay with me during the daily grind
I cope with my life in tried and tested ways
Trying to change some of my excessive forays
During it all I remain unique
The pluses and minuses of this priceless antique
Trying to live, love and be fulfilled
Learning from life maybe becoming more skilled
What are the colours associated with love, are such fanciful notions new to you
Do you think it bizarre, to spread out the colours, to compare their hues
My notion of love in this context, would be,of sex and desire
The love related to intimacy
If I put up a chart would the colours vary, between old and new love?
Would each swatch be a match,for each stage of the game, would that be tough?
My notion is that each relationship has different nuances and different lengths of stages
So each love, each swatch would have its own vivacity
So while fizz, bang, storm will rage, the density, andintensity will modulate in different phases
So how to pick the colours?
So colour me , attraction in a muted colour pallet
With lust burning with bright and shimmering bursts of raw colour
Desire in smouldering heavy tones
I pick up my colour chart thinking of my loves
Teasing out the strands marking each with the care that love behoves
Washing the darkness from the strands
Making my memories of old love clear and free of bitterness
Then moving to colour this new love with a rainbow of magnificence
As I indulge in the colours of love
Suffused with love and caught on a whim
Feeling excited hoping to win
Sending you wishes and hopes by the score
Blowing them mightily out of the door
Swirling, whirling into the sky
Floating, flying ,oh so high
Fluttering and Floating never tied down
Growing into happiness if they land on the ground
Leaving signs of the love that we share
Floating around you with plenty to spare
Curled up neatly
Sleeping tight
Mind over flowing
Sexy dreams fight
Sheets dampen
Thrashing limbs
Feeling touch
Tunnel dims
Tease arouse
Embrace tight
Ghostly presence
Lips fight
Breathless steamy
Arms clamp
Spooning sweetly
Features blank
Moaning rises
Breathing lust
Urges surge
Sanity bust
Sleeping wildly
Dreams asunder
Smiling face
Weak with wonder.
Listening to the love songs
Reading the books
Love should be out there, can’t be overlooked
Take my breath away, Love at first sight
Looked around the corners,under the seats
In my life,that sort of love, seems to have me beat
Had the sparks and the flashes
But not the full thunderstorm
Are all those songs and novels, so far from the norm?
Is companionship and friendship
A more sustainable refrain
Am I searching for unicorns, a pot of gold, the bubbles in champagne?
Contentness and happiness are with me yet
Still I am searching for the holy grail
Confused by reality, a very cold trail
Is my love with me
But my mind doesn’t see?
I am confused, who can help me?
Cleaning the house is such a bore
Sinks, basins, and loo rings ever more
Every week the dirt is back
Dust, crumbs, and pubic hair to hack
This male has weekend chores, to do
Day dreaming makes the world renew
He imagines the thoughts of his trusty steed
Who would be imaging, such sexy deeds
While his hands wields the duster
Steed dreams of things, to make him fluster
Hills and valleys to climb and touch
Perky breasts, with knobs and such
Tight trimmed Tabbies Oh so lush
Wet water rafting in tunnels that crush
Syntillating views that stun the senses
Steeds adventures so immenses
Though a steed is versatile
He thinks cleaning such a trial
Cleaning the house is such a bore
Day dreaming mediates the chore
When his steed is bored with cleaning
He stands up to say
Come on want sex…ok?
Converging Lives. Sounds, Silence and Imagery