Waiting

We are waiting

It has been so long 

We do not remember what for

Perhaps it is physical

Perhaps it is a song

Will we know when it arrives

Or will it be a surprise

Alice sips her vanilla milk

I nurse my tea

Time clicks on

The birds tweet

The tree moves in the wind

There are worse things

I suppose

She says

Wiping the cream from her lips

It is better to wait

Than to do nothing

I try and think

Is waiting doing nothing

Does it become something

When what you are waiting for arrives

Is it enough in itself 

Our heads hurt

So does our skin

Tiny spots of blood

Speckle our cotton clothes 

It is not a pattern we wish for any more

Perhaps we are waiting for an end

And when the end comes

We will be gifted with a beginning. 

Circus

Logically, I know the circus

She says

We are lying in the bedroom

Pondering the mundane 

It is all about defying gravity

Swinging on the trapeze

Twisting and turning

Letting the sounds soak in

No mean feat

Amongst the chaos

She sings a pretty song 

Acts sweetly and innocently 

If she applied herself at school

She would be marvellous indeed

Instead she is famous

My little secret

The essence of my work 

Perhaps we both need each other 

To see the lights

And giggle at the clowns 

Madder than Hatter

Scarier than Wonderland 

The bedroom ceiling spins

We hold on to the bed 

Dizzy and happy

What finer day to play

She squeals 

And we soar and sway 

Dream and laugh. 

This List

This list is everything I ever dreamed of

This list is blue ink on thick yellow paper

This list is her tiny hand in mine

This list is milk and honey

This list is fast asleep

This list is like glass fragile and tender

This list is one of loss

This list is one of becoming

This list is both fast and slow

This list is the truth but it will never become real 

This list has no beginning and no end

This list is time

This list is chasing Rabbit and finding the Queen of Hearts 

This list is her voice sweetly singing 

This list is Wonderland 

This list is Earth and heaven 

This list is mine and hers

This list is sugar slowly melting on our tongues

This list shines like stars

This list disappears in the dark

This list is unknown 

This list is ours

This list is hypnotic 

This list is drugged and happy

This list is as sober as her

This list is a thimble full of poison 

This list is the antidote 

This list may never end

This list is not a poem. 

River Merchant

We send a letter to

The River Merchants wife

The paper is heavy

The ink swirling

Alice frowns in concentration

We dislike making mistakes 

It feels like hurt

A pain and a sorrowful tear

In the letter we tell her

How we climbed the walls

How we scuffed our knees 

And skinned our fingers

When we got to the river

We hoped to meet her

But she never knows 

When we are there 

We sink our feet into the spongy moss 

It feels like a balm

Soothing and cold

We gather leaves and 

Wipe our dusty fingers

As the river gently flows

I weave flowers into her hair

Just like the ink falling into 

Patterns on the paper

How should we end

She asks

Kind Regards 

Or love

I do not know the answer

How does one address

The River Merchants wife. 

Hunted

When we fall asleep

We dream of being hunted

We are running

Gasping for breath

Each inhalation like a blade

In the chest

We cannot find a rhythm 

Our feet are bare

The grass is wet

It tickles our toes 

In the daylight they will be stained 

And green

We do not know what is chasing us

But we know we are scared

We awake with a gasp

Just before the ending 

Perhaps it is a wolf 

She mutters

Quietly

But we are not wearing red

And the wolf hunted 

Another girl 

Perhaps we are hunting ourselves

I think

Trying to find a solution

Working out all the pain and worries

As we run 

Scrolling through thoughts

Finding our feelings

Ones we do not show

In the daytime 

So we are both hunted and hunter

The sun lifts 

We lie awake but tired

How we wish to dream of

Stars and butterflies

We will she says

Tenderly 

If we think hard enough

They will come. 

Bandwidth

The radio mumbles in the background

We choose our bandwidth

And cover our ears 

Do you remember the past

She asks

I feel her breath on my face 

I am not ready to say

I promised to bury it

Walk away and wonder 

Just like the last time 

I am sorry 

She says

I take her hand

No need to apologise 

Little cricket 

We turn the dial

Try and make the sound clearer 

With each twist there is total sound

We don't know what result 

We will find

It is all just noise

Talking or music

Static or silence

We sink into the day

Get swept along 

In the bandwidth.

Our Place

The light filters in the window

The red curtains swim and sway

Outside the tree dances

Casting pink petals onto concrete

The birds sing

It is cool

If we stand on tip toes 

We can see the green hills

We never thought 

We would find home

Perhaps it has found us

Because we both needed

And wanted it 

Age makes you want to settle

She whispers

That is why I stay with you

We sip tea

Rest against the pillows

Pull on the softest

Pink socks

Tuck up under the covers

We can spend whole days

Sitting and lying

Gently knowing outside

There is movement

Things passing

We used to think they were wasted days

But they are not painful

So they must be better than before

I can feel the warmth of her body next to mine

It is like a half sleep

A meditation 

We are both separate from the world

And part of it

Just how we like it

We say together.