Super duper...

Even if there was nothing to get over
you'd arrive
like a saviour
and see no dust
in immaculate,
it must be hard to rescue pristine,
no damsel
no distress,
no mess,
just a flutter of your cape making a strong heart quiver,
and made me want to say;
come here soon
anyway.

Near you
is being sat under butterfly blue skies;
a world resplendent with confident soaring,
not seeming
to flutter by.

Near you
is being sat under butterfly blue skies;
a world resplendent with confident soaring,
not seeming
to flutter by.

Near you
is being sat under butterfly blue skies;
a world resplendent with confident soaring,
not seeming
to flutter by.

Every time we part
I try not to miss you
and
the splendid fanfare in my head;
I simply smile, eat
and go to bed
with stomach whirling with what I can't quite put my finger on:
you
and your
winged aplomb.

Some people have kindness in everything they do,
a helping hand that listens well
then reacts with easy care,
spreading love
everywhere.
They never cease to offer a warm hug
and try to make things better with their wondrous galloping strive,
distances reduced in seconds;
some people have sunshine in all they do,
some people Mum,
just like you.

I might not see you tonight,
things can come up
and if they do, that’s fine
there are other sweet ways for me to spend my time;
I could read a book and then watch television,
catch up on my shows with concise precision,
make a lavish meal and then chow down at leisure,
put some music on and dance with pleasure,
have a long shower and then go for a walk,
meet friends and hear them talk;
these are just a few of the other things I could do tonight,
but if I see you?
Oh what a delight!

When I miss someone a bit
I have the tendency to feel
a tad sad,
far from a toppling grief
adding a pall to all proceeding,
more nourished roots
missing the time of seeding;
every hop and skip
is still done
with swift
and sprightly,
every bus on time,
even the ones that run nightly;
but when the sun was full today it shone a little less brightly.

Possibilities change
to what is
near you,
any reaching
suddenly gone
to constant wonder.
Hypothesis discarded
until tomorrow,
or longer;
as it's you, right now.

No armour made me feel strong,
until you
came along
and infused every
***** with staunch
and bold
and sun.

Once
every beach
had our name on,
a potential place to walk
and be us
for special hours.
Slowly a tide covered those days
and no more shore for sure foot to stand,
steps gone under sea covered land;
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
no more roaming nowhere hand in hand,
unmoored,
a sun not ours anymore,
a sun not ours anymore,
a sun not ours anymore.

There are lots of topper things I adore on earth,
like cats, the moon and drunken mirth
or talking, the sea and a well buttered bun,
nights drawing in or long days in the sun.
Another thing I really like is having a shower in the morning,
it’s the perfect antidote to my just awoke yawning,
the aqua blast helps remove the yearning for more bed
the watery goodness bringing vitality to my head,
the soapy woosh invigorates and vamooses my alarm’s mesh,
I exit the bathroom feeling fantastically fresh
and when I’m sat on the bus to work I think “ohh, someone smells splendidly,
oh wait a minute, yeah, it’s me!
Now although I adore gliding into employment with the fragrance of roses
I don’t always heed my cleanliness craving after dozes,
If I’ve had a alcohol drenched Sunday with lots of venturing out
my wanting for a pre work bathe goes up the spout,
sometimes I’ll awake on Monday after a drunken slumber
and feel like I’ve been covered in a ton of lumber,
and think “right it’s either get up now and scrub myself clean
or hit snooze and have another 15”
as even musing on that is making what little energy I have sap
I pull the quilt tighter and take the nap,
the tiny jot of rest doesn’t even touch the side
and before I know I’m at the bus stop awaiting a ride,
I get on and sit down still knackered as hell
and think, “what is that that stale vino smell?
Ohh I bet someone unfortunate was sat here before me,
one of those who has to choose tween getting drunk and having their tea,
someone who everyday has to have more than a few,
then the penny drops, “Jesus Si that odour is coming from you!”
I’m weary, languid, my body is sore,
and because I didn’t shower I’ve got Pound Shop wine coming out of my pores
yeah 4 for tenner cheap plonk is great to toast the end of the paid employment week
but after 24 hours without a cleanse  it pongs pretty bleak,
I’ve got eau de toillete of rotten grape reek.
I hum like I’ve slept in a pre Herculean task Stables Of Aegean that’s been dosed in a dregs of wine pump,
or stench like a on the streets Oliver Twist spliced with a wino Stig Of The Dump.
The bus pulls up to work and before I head in I think I’ll grab something greasy to eat,
ohh, congealed fat mixed with a day on the beers stink, your mates’ nostrils are in for a treat.
I slob to my desk like the unbathed thing I feel
And ponder, “that shower later better be the real deal.”
But, I don’t always rue not having a shower on a Monday because sometimes it means I don’t have the aroma of a stale wine scene,
sometimes uncleansed has me feeling serene!
I remember one unshowered Monday as I’d seen you on the Sunday I smelt of that perfume you always wear,
cos as you’re huggy and tactile it was on my clothes, some of it was even in what was left of my hair,
and as that scent reminded me of you what swirled around me was your awesome breeze,
suffice to say that day of employment passed with ease,
as whenever I got bored of pretending to look at that work thing on Excel
i’d get a hint of your fragrance and my thoughts would propel
with,
your easy wisdom and penchant for a chats
how you like Amaretto and how you love cats,
how you help out animals when they’re feeling brittle
with the tender coo of a Dr Doolittle.
You can take a piece of junk that was discarded at leisure,
decorate it with aplomb and turn it into a treasure,
you’re a burst of energy, a buzzing sprite,
a pleasure to be around, a total delight,
you’re interested in the world, and quantum theory,
talking to you is never dreary,
you bounce around the pub fabulously gassing with the many folk you see,
opening conversations with your splendid key,
**** you seem as popular as me!
Ahh, your joyful demeanour and fantastic soar,
how could anyone fail to hear your wonderful caw;
Emma every time I see you I like you more!
And on those your perfume days when I do get home, hit the shower and feel cleanliness envelop my face
I think, “you know for a ***** day you turned out pretty ace!”!

You can
sit still in all those
typhoons
and
hurricanes,
never changed,
always the same;
thoughtful,
unrushed,
at the helm of wonder.

Sans communique
thrown asunder,
for ages now you've enabled wonder;
I'll miss you sat in my hand easily lit,
my starry ace,
my ace conduit.

In pomp
it doesn't rain,
just
the sun
again
&
again.

However brief it was good to see you today,
may our next meeting
not be as fleeting.

You could make something small
tall
as a giraffe
with your soaring essence
and belly laugh.

If ever there is a time you think you're not brilliant
think on
for a while;
everybody loves you
and
your smile.

Yeahhhh...

I check my excitement
that little bit more
as the bus
gets closer
to you.
What was easily quelled drops of reaching ten hours ago have grown with revolution
of wheels;
increasing wooshes of joyful anticipation
held off
for now.
But benign subjugation won't last for long because I'll see you
and you'll sing our song.

Every time
I see you
I like you more than I did
when I liked you straight away.

As natural as you
is how I want to be,
moving before
formalised thought
into the you
of yourself
without thinking;
understood
as easy
as a season.

Something warm
occurs
when
you’re near;
simple fireworks work
and cover
the sky
with joy.

When
you say
with gentle ask
"i'm yet to be discovered,
I may let you name me""
I cope with overwhelm well
and think
there
is nothing better
than you.

The storm
make believe
with ease;
your soar roaring.

Thanks for the amazing interlude,
it was beautiful to see
and talk to you.

If
things go
according to plan
you'll be packed up
when this is gone,
in a box
that knows
you lighted
brightly

Thankfully there are many days of the year I adore
that are gilded with flight and resplendent with soar,
even in the midst of supposed bleak mid winter frown
they’ll be a jive and a boogie at a dance in Town,
where it’s far from chilly in a huggy warming soothe
and all is fine in a January’s groove.
Any day in March could prove to be ace
with the appear of a friendly face,
as then chatting swirls with balletic gymnastic,
our rhetoric full of the pirouette of fantastic,
what was just another night of the 365
becomes made with the joy of being alive.
Spring usually blossoms with a sure run,
the unfurl of gentle, the know of hotter sun,
blooming naturally with the grace of the trequartista,
as well as the long weekend off for Easter.
Every morning gets brighter just a smidgen,
summer’s encroach feels fab to be lived in,
under verdant leaves clarities’s clear
and then tent is out because festival’s here;
“Hi my name’s Simon, what’s your name, how’s it going?”,
as music plays and vino is flowing,
“what you like Buffy too?  Ahh man it’s so great,
“yeah man it’s all about love and never leaving life too late!”.
And yeah when I get back I might be a comedown mess
but I love you festivals nevertheless!
Then September’s coming soon,
for fallen leaves the ground makes room,
what once was glistering in the green of the hour
curls to the gone of fading flower,
that’s okay though as that’s just the way it goes,
everything is transient, even great loves will someday part,
it all has an end, that amazing start,
it’s the bit in the middle that makes it serene,
the make of the moment believably supreme,
plus round the corner it’s Halloween;
where ghoulish attire can get “ohh, good call!” and a laugh
with a 31st deviation from the usual dress path.
Then in a few days booming lurks
in the here then disappear of fireworks,
as well, in November, there are frolics with friends
and those fireworks are yet to end.
Now as you can see all those other days of the year I marvel at their behest
but, if I had to say, I love you the best;
I start putting décor up in anticipation of your arrival
I feel festive butterflies begin to rise and spiral,
I get out the banners when I know you’re coming soon,
I throw tinsel all around my room,
as I want you to know that when you get here
my heart is full of splendid cheer,
you always make me smile with consummate ease
as welcome as July’s warming breeze;
as soon as my eyes open on your morning
I feel the effulgent skip of the dawning,
I rise to greet you with wide open arms,
“yeah, you got me, I fell for your charms!”,
every second with you is full of wondrous thrill,
you are top, you’re easily brill,
your magic tactility, the sing in your touch,
aww, I love you so much.
So yeah all the other days I don’t love you any less,
just you Christmas Day, you’re simply the best!

What is sometimes seen as glorious razzmatazz
would be impossible
without you;
you put the B in my be
easily

The sing
of you now
no longer fraught
with dull thought,
as it should be,
near Christmas.

The stuff of bright
in motion
shining spectacularly fast;
it's the move of
your fantastic.

Fortunate fireworks
sing when i'm near you,
such a bang in the sky.

If I could do
the way you make me feel
I'd hunger with colour
and fall,
at sing,
with rainbow;
all in the much
of your touch.

In all supposed
possibilities
in the universe
we talk
with unison magnificent;
always my best for you
in the whole wide world.

As long as he was
encased in cold,
getting shorter all the time.
But,
in spite of the horribly havocking eyes of study
he grows
and burrows;
the best worm in the universe.

Galloping joyfully the stampede of you
to tremendously splendid rendezvous.

Moments fully lived
on grass
in sun
under leaves
with seasons to come.

After you’ve ran with green through knowing frantic summer strength
you fall,
in going home rain,
with all the land in the world.

Without you paid employment would last forever,
eagles wouldn't have feathers,
every letter full of commiserations,
without you.
Without you Usain Bolt wouldn't be as fast
and disappointments last
and not fade
in time,
no hope in mind,
without you.
Without you every fox would be hunted,
and expressions of love blunted
by fear,
no one to lend a friendly ear,
without you.
Without you soars would be stilted by trepidation,
spread wings unaware of elation,
without you.
But, for now, as it is
you're here,
engendering cheers easy, when you smile.

In autumn
you
sit alive
in leafy
fanfare,
I'm glad
it’s so;
my sudden constant
in time of go;
making all my happy.

Perplexed in glorious rush
of telling you
thank you,
for the days,
hours,
minutes
and seconds
of this.

On alarm
you smile,
as rays of slumber rescind;
no more prepare of slow,
in fruitful
falling
morning
go.

The seemingly impassable
lilts
then
goes,
obstacles vanishing,
at a hint of your arrival;
stumbling blocks
fade into easy ground
when you’re here
when you’re around.

Blatantly
you say,
with typical
forthright
knowing
wonder,
I love you,
& I,
trying to gather my thoughts
say,
without the weight of thinking
I love you too;
when I want summer
you make my sky blue.

You promise green
&
then grow
with splendid aplomb.
Your fantastic encroachment
verdant & happy;
branching a reach
to beyond.

Many people have phobias in this life,
what for others seems innocuous fills them full of strife,
some can keep firmly on their lid
when they see an arachnid,
they are calm and serene
but then cower when they see forked lightning beams.
Some can stroke a snake
but when thinking of flying begin to shake,
or can skip through massive open spaces with joyful vigour
but when slightly confined begin to quiver.
Me?  I found great white sharks most perturbing
even a picture of one was completely disturbing,
their visage draining the light from the air,
I saw a totally cold demented stare,
terror lurked in every photographic depiction,
like reading a letter calling me to conscription,
I felt briny constriction,
I'd shiver at an image of a wake they’d left in the sea,
that’s made by a thing that has the death glare of Ted Bundy,
making ominous mist,
this big fish is as crazy as Albert Fish.
Smelling blood from far away, never needing to sleep,
these great white traits gave me the creeps;
barely leaving a silhouette in the sun,
but with the ferocity of Attila The ***,
marauding silently to selected prey
even the water gets out of the way.
The seal was just chilling, thinking of going home,
he’d had enough of a daily roam,
about to paddle back in leisurely slow
but then it appeared from below...
a serrated chasm charnel pit,
Atlantis nuclear bombs would look like it,
fanged latch on, a phantasmagoria spectacular;
it bites for keeps this oceanic Dracula.
The aqua fills with gushing red,
it submerges, fully fed.
Anything to do with them would send me to terror filled gorge,
The Reef, or Sharky and George,
I’d scream on instant at the thought of a fin
that dorsal jut carrying sin.
But then one day when I was cowering in the kitchen after one had surprised me on page 15 of The Metro News,
I thought “Si, you gotta banish these deep sea blues.
You can’t keep dropping your pizza at the merely the sight
of a dreadful gaping awful great white.
It’s not a good state of head to engage with fear,
especially with something that’s not even here.”.
So a couple of days later when I was pretty ******
I was like “right, let’s have it you massive fish!”.
I picked up the newspaper and looked right at one,
initially my startle went to a million from none,
but I held my nerve and slowly the burst of scare began to ebb,
I gingerly untangled myself from this great white web.
Don’t get me wrong like getting over anything it took a bit of time,
I could be whistling through Town feeling fine,
and then see an advert for Mega Shark V Crocosaurus and feel a hint of chill in my spine,
but as the minutes turned into months I could handle impromptu shark,
a pic of one wouldn’t disrupt the larks,
or cast a brief pall on a sunny day in the park.
Now I can watch Blue Planet without apprehension,
in fact when David says “great white” it gets my attention,
in an inquisitive sense of “let’s see what these guys have got to give,
we’ve wasted years but now let’s live!”.
I love the malleability of the mind and it’s super anoint,
it can dimmish with ease what seemed like fixed point,
ingrained weighty states can be waved through;
foggy mire to brilliant blue.
What can appear to be etched for rest of the days
can just be a shackled phase,
a bricked up room growing doors.
Ahh, it’s Saturday, I think I'll watch Jaws.

The new cold
& what was sun
congregate
in autumn.

All events
about see,
sails risen
with homing precision;
never lost at sea
when you’re
looking at me.

So quick to make you gone,
although you will go
soon
but,
for now,
you could brighten a waking
with made days
under easy sun,
the simple
with aplomb,
being all you are;
assured with here.

In far muddy ground
you’re dry land,
thickening clogs
blocked with cease
are not beyond your fixing reach;
cautious steps become ballet,
the
dancing for you.

Perspective is strange,
it encompasses
many a range,
like when I see Poppet the ****
my joy soars with bliss,
sweet tabby cats don't come much better than this;
I want to hear you purr,
you ace stripy rocket,
I love you lots, Poppet.
But then, to mice it's,
Is that terror getting near
should we plan a run,
torturing us to death
is her idea of fun,
she'll wreak with clawing havoc
& deadly feline mirth,
she'll eat us as she's smiling
& extinguish us from earth;
you're toxic, Poppet.
The juxtapose of difference
stampeding in the air,
to one she rests in bed,
to others coiled in lair.