***** ashes
In a pile of roses
Petals
I am falling
Twisting and turning
Yearning for affection
While whispering that I want to be alone
Not sure which to hone
I'm trying to remember words
That make me feel at home
Although I forget
I will not regret
Time spent thinking

My Dean as such soft
skin Tis always been that way
even though we aged

When I look at him
he still makes my heart flutter
after thirty years

Today I cut his
hair , he now bald as coot
but his still handsome

Sometimes when he sleeps
he snores ever so loud , then
sometimes he wakes up

gasping for fresh air
no matter it's winter or
the first day of spring

I tell him to breathe
slowly , that all is okay
No fear shall stop me

Sleep Apena stops
his heartbeats whilst he sleeps o
so soft on pillow

Tis a constant feel
of worry but love helps to
get us through the days

No robot machine
from hospital helps , Tis like
a cold windy day

This evening we had
a sweet night , lots of bowls filled
up with yummy treats

Bon bons and humbugs
fruitella sweets and toffee
popcorn sugar sweet!!

Best we clean our teeth
after eating that lot , or
we'll end up toothless

Today I saw some
swallows stretching there dark wings
in greyest of sky

Was such a lovely
sight to see , they flew in air
then swooped down gently

I hope Deans heart sleeps
well tonight and it doesn't
stop whilst his sleeping

Out of eight hours
sleep he'll be lucky to get
four hours of sleep

But he still wakes up
smiling ready for his day
Always marching on

I love him with all
my heart , my soul mate and my
best friend forever <3

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.
Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

Cleaved from the breast of a hydrophobic stone; I found solace
in disremembering. I stowed away on a barge of flotsam.
Carried the weight of my teeming delirium
all the way, to my tiresome revolt.

Like a Gunga Din... with a bucket
full of wishes. And a bucket
of holes.

I only slept when the dreams stopped.

As foretold.

i am broken and i want to be whole
death is stained on my fingertips
he loves the taste of my tears
so i wash my face too often

why am i so broken
there is no meaning in the cracks of my soul
i fill my life with comfort and
still death is always behind me

my throat is so swollen
from pollen and panic attacks
that ravage my body and
rip out the seams in my story

i've lost myself and
though i spent months seeking myself
all i see in the mirror is unspent
potential for depression to run me aground again

there is no wayfinder in my heart
like yours, with your goals
as a GPS and your achievements
like landmarks in your mother's hallway

i write beginnings
of sentences that now are
litter on the floor of my mind
because no words encompass my fear

and now endings are all i can think of
but i don't want to be another
face on the obituary, lost
amid painful goodbye's and small typeface