You don't realise how lonely I feel..it's only some attention I need.

A quiet word, a touch that makes me feel you are here, truly here.
Yet, the more I earn for these things. the harder it is to receive them.

Do you want me to stop needing you and need someone else?

I wonder at times how you can, not want what I want...no mater how tired you are.
But then I know I am more a fairy spirit with love as my nectar and you the practical Peter Pan of the high life.

Fly with me, I say in earnest but in this place in my heart....I also know it will take a world wind for you to see me as I am, right now.

Lonely

Sometimes I sit and wonder about life. Like a leaf drifting on a cool crisp breeze, wind in my sails, I fly over tree tops basking in the sun of a new morn, then again there I am just managing to stay adrift in a hailstorm, that blurs my vision of moments spent and obscured my view of sunrises yet to see...taking me with it in a gust of wind so strong that my veins hold tight, in hope of not falling and yet, as fear grips me with the uncertainty on the flow...I know in this strange an unforeseen moment - I have to be right.

I could not have read the signs, anything but correctly.

These thoughts have crossed my mind and consumed me before and time and time again, I have been want for no reason. Why then must I tally with unspoken words, or wonder about unsure thoughts...why can't I be happy in the moment?

That I may be that leaf...will I float or will I fly...can I fall, must I try...is this real or make-believe? Did I dream it all up, in my sleep?

Can the sun shine along with the rain...are leaves meant to feel the love in a sweet sugar rain?

Feelings

I'm just wading through waterfalls
Chanting my song
Awaiting that kiss
When you come along

Wishing and wanting
The night to last on
You, holding me tight
Our bodies riding the storm

Sometimes I stay awake
my eyes ache to close
Yet, sleep evades the senses
dreams in dark and forgotten places
linger in the shadows

I call out to sheep
That long jumped over the fence
that white picket fence
I thought I'll own
outside the house I'd call home
with a lawn, a dog,
A handsome husband and
Little children all my own

But wait! It's mine...I own them all
except the sheep who jump
yet, never fall
when sleep draws near I fight it back
what I yearned for
a stark bright fact

Why must we long for things
when in reality what brings
we willing throw back
confused or guilty
Rarely satisfied, we want but received...are refused by a mile

Life is strange, emotions make no sense...our desire playing havoc
when we think the thoughts
want what's ours not
Long for things we think
we have not

Let me cuddle now
try to count them sheep
stop my fingers tapping out
thoughts that are between
waking and sleep
Hit the sack, get some dreamstakes
make my thoughts sour
To someone else's door
baring lights of a happy glow.

If I Told You

How would you feel 

if I told you I loved you

Would you wrap 

your arms around me 

...and whisper...'me too'

Would you love me tonight

taking your time 

Falling in love with me

will we make it through time

hand in hand 

lips locked in time,

Counting Stars

I watched the waves come to shore
Like snow blown on the breath of an angel
My children ran to and fro
Trying hard to catch the receding flotsam
My smile broadened in my heart
My mind sang a tune of love
His arms around me held me tight
As we watched the stars break through the night

Inspired by the movie - Hemingway & Gellhorn 

with Nicole Kidman and Clive Owen

....loved the movie.

Paths We Walk

Life has a strange way of taking us on rides we may better off be, never getting on. We hear the thunder and yet we stride the distance untold, searching for a footing, when we should heed the bolt of lightening. Why do we boldly march forward into a garden of wilderness, tangled weeds and uprooted flowers whence we can all but cover in the midst of a fairyland... instead we chose the garden we must water with unbridled passion, intoxicating senses filled with tremors ...only to cling to the wines of secrets. Is it the war inside us that seeks the river valley or is it the saint in us that looks towards a greener pastor forbidden. Can we not love the roses? Must we pull at the weeds. And yet the voice in my head says Yes! We must. Must discover the intricately woven stray strands blowing in the breeze in order to find the world within us. For only when we find that pattern do we find our muse. Only then do we...Live, Love, Surrender. It is at this point in time that we are Complete.