Coming home - New original poem

Coming home

It’s not a marriage

what we have is more sacred

transcending broken vows

closer than being naked

she underlies my skin

and clouds

my thinking all the colours of

Ireland

knitwear and witches

and decorates the corners of

my room

and she can count the phases of the moon

divine my fireball

and sweep the clouds from heaven

on a broom

ancient as the stones is our connection

and older than my bones

she’s the exception

to my feeling of going it alone

starved of affection

her love

on this prison planet strong as a taste

of home

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To the silence

You are here

but you are not here

you are there

but you are not there

you who can threaten

to fall anywhere

land on anyone

after the blast

you are the sound

rising from nowhere

struck like a child

hovering like a cloud

enveloping everyone

and speaking for none

you who give voice

to everything that isn’t

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New Poem - Dawn Recall

Dawn recall in Late afternoon

I have been awake over nine hours

although it is now entering late afternoon

it started in a mist of pre-dawn fear and trembling

but with a twist and turn

I face the rising sun and the crisp cold morning

hit the pharmacist to score my gear

turn my thoughts to writing

tune ear and spirit to the sound of Winter sunrise

train my ever tired eyes to the earth’s ideas

and ride the thermals like the kites

who swerve and thrive upon the breeze

and dive like meteors

scavenging the beach for carcasses and bones