a poem for nearly

I nearly completed all the days

of poems in April’s haze.

I nearly completed all the tasks

of life that won’t leave me at half mast.

I nearly committed to complete

a job that at first seemed so neat.

I’m nearly becoming the person

I truly wanted to be.

 

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NaPoWriMo 2018 day 26: Senses of Spring

 

Come see with me, as the spring light fades,

a delicate pale dusk that hints at May,

a gentle hue that shimmers through

the retreating winter mists.

 

Come hear with me, as the birds make nests,

a caw and cackle from beaks unseen,

above me the drone of planes in flight,

beside me the sounds of nature stirring.

 

Come smell with me, as mowers emerge

from musty mould of damp old sheds,

to give a lawn its first shear of the year,

the encouraging scent of freshly chopped grass.

 

Come feel with me, the patio touch

of a lilac cushion, smooth bumps of rattan,

a still cool breeze upon the skin,

as fingers graze the pot-plant petals.

 

Come taste with me, this springtime zest,

let ice-chilled soda sparkle your throat,

the tang of past no longer bitter,

now savour feeling alive.

 

NaPoWriMo 2018 day 25: remember to keep an open heart

 

Remember what it’s like to sew your heart:

when you feel alone, yet yearn for love.

Stress will charge your fears, your pulse,

you forget to attach to what’s above.

 

A sewn-up heart has self-righteous thoughts

of revenge and shame and guilt,

the threads of life tie you up in knots,

you forget the power of your patchwork quilt.

 

Remember what it’s like to open your heart,

when you’re a blanket of multi colour,

resplendent in your everyday weeds,

ready to clothe and soothe the other.

 

Be forever open to heal your hurts,

 undo that stitch, untie that knot,

challenge the feel of being hemmed in.

Don’t let life be a chance forgot.

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NaPoWriMo 2018 day 22: a poem for stars

The pattern of stars  in the sky above my head –

as I lie on my patio chairs, feeling the evening breeze –

is scattered and twinkly,

but not distinct.

I ask them for an answer.

 

The lights from planes on their way to

destinations far and wide, flicker

and flirt with the stars,

evidence that another flight took off OK.

 

I need to know my purpose, why I’m here,

and why I keep messing up my life.

I look to the stars for an answer.

 

What seems to be a plane

is a star that shines bright,

that is having its moment

in the firmament.

I pray for an answer.

 

I look away, look back,

The stars in my night sky,

above my patio,

have rearranged

into the shape of a heart.

My heart that I must follow.