Enslaved by thoughts of you,
chained together forever...
Mindless amazement,
I surrender, I'm yours.

The most glorious jewel shines,
polished by the gaze of many.
Kept safe in the Master's harem,
for his eyes only.

Nothing else matters,
I will follow you to the heavens,
risk everything for your embrace.
I was yours from the moment we met.

Just be discrete, do not betray me.
Loose lips and all that.
The master would kill me,
even if the heartbreak didn't.

When those anxious swarms,
Buzz around your head again.
Consume your mind,
Like a foggy brain.

Battling emotions come out to play,
Unkind, unforgiving, and draining.
They push joy and happiness,
So your hearts bitterly complaining.

A cancer that sinks to your very soul,
Gut destroying pain, seems here to stay.
Yet a little voice whispers in the wind,
Fear not , hope is coming, on its way.

Whether arsonist at fault
or confluence of ripe conditions
triggering perfect firestorm,
the titan of fire beside himself with misery,
though no fault of his own
the raging bullish conflagration
a taste of inescapable hell
synonymous with the outer limits
of the twilight zone,
where mercurial Venusians
ply their devil may care attitude
with pitchforks stabbing the sheltering sky
mortifying for those residents
(even firm believers
in a loving divine presence),
especially those individuals

Does anyone know why 17 Borrowdale Road is missing?
Every day I walk past the empty space
and wonder why it’s not there.

No. 13 is missing as well but I suppose that’s just unlucky.

My husband was born at 48 in 1944.
He says there never was a property there.
The plot of land was used as an allotment,
probably to aid the war effort.

I remember a chap once told me
that before the estate was built
a house stood there and underneath
there’s a tunnel that goes to Frankley.

Life without my engineer
Is different
From what it was before.
I'm in a new space
Physically
Emotionally.

He was Mr Can Do
Mr Get it Done
Mr Find a Solution
Mr Fixit
And he did.

He was opinionated
Saying it as it was
And as it is
Out loud.

He was my backup
Like a sturdy
Cricket bail
And he would never move
If I needed help.

He moved seamlessly
To help us all
In any way he could.
You knew he was there.
I miss him.

Please rescue us from this godforsaken place
veritable hellscape, where angels fear ingress.

Just then an unexpected pleasant distraction
woke me from induced stupor linkedin to Los
Angeles fires jump/kick starting telepathic wife
high connection between yours truly husband
to a righteous leftist extraterrestrial establishing
an immediate cove Van Halen brotherly bond.

...and then, snow.

I am cocooned in the warmth
of my bed, beneath the veil of
darkness that silences the day.

Winter has sheathed the windows,
the downspout, the mailbox now opened
by the quick hand of a wind bullying through.

I hear the 12:04 train along the tracks,
chanting like a monk, parting the
frigid air with a releasing, "Om."

There is a great storm predicted, and I am
aware of salt trucks, and the rush for bread
and milk. But the train decrees a feeling

My hands are old and worn
My knuckles ache each day,
With skin as thin as parchment,
My hands still have much to say.

These hands survived a childhood
Held a ball, and a fishing pole,
An accident or two with stitches
Broken bones took a painful toll.

One hand was raised to take an oath
To serve a nation then fight a war,
Raised once again, another oath,
Enforcing laws would be the chore.

…Late-summer-bride
A rare and cultured jewel

My body’s opposite
The perfect mirror
Of my flesh…

Sometimes I get angry at my heart
for all the foolishness it has gotten me into.
It seems to have never been afraid of folly.

It reminds me of meeting you at that café,
my silly gift in hand before you took mine in yours.

This Spring afternoon, many years later,
with a bright sun working hard, I watch you
attentively watering the plants in our yard,
indebted to foolishness and all it has given me