Dinner Time
Admiring the dinner spread
Aromas fill the room
Call the troops and set the plates
The food is coming soon
A grateful heart for filling plates
So sweet in every way
The moment I look forward to
Each and every day
Your eyes
You’ve got such lovely eyes….my ex had the same colour. Red goes well with that colour, I can tell you – you might want to give it a try, next time maybe?
3 Strikes, You’re Out
"How was your meal?"
"Horrendous, last time I ask for a homecooked meal.”
“Didn’t I say dress formal?”
“I’ll have the stea-”
“She’ll have the salad, thanks.”
“Sorry?”
“Just looking out for your health, sweetheart.”
“If you want to look after yours, I suggest you let me order – sweetheart.”
“First” Date
As they ordered their food, Joe started the conversation with an icebreaker.
"Well, this is way more awkward than the last time we met."
Sally stared at Joe in shock.
This was a blind date.
She'd never seen him before in her life.
Dreams
What if dreams were reality?
Suspended in the universe
like the infinite pile of thoughts
in your head
You cannot speak
Unable to muster a word
When you're afraid to speak up
When you aren't being heard
In the crowded room
where you can't escape
Like a thankless job
Cotton candy skies
over a painted blue sea
Like your beautiful creative mind
What if dreams
are a different way
of looking at your reality?
Short and Sweet
Little crumbs fall onto the text I’m reading
Tiny, brown and sweet
They belong to the shortbread I’m eating
The wonderful, buttery treat.
Its best served with piping hot tea
Balanced carefully upon one's knee
As one looks out at the glistening sea
Listening to the song bird's melody
The nostalgia is certainly a guarantee
So grab your biscuit and get cosy
Treat it just like you would a trophy
And stay warm and toasty
Drifting into a day dream slowly.
crimson sunflowers of summer days
a simple memory, so fragile & could be forgotten
it seems so long ago that we were there,
riding bikes in the dusty air of summertime,
along the empty streets, & once in a while
the dogs would bark as we passed,
angry to be awoken from their summertime slumber.
lying on top of so much history, so many stories,
buried forever in the tall grass & sunflowers
that waved in the breeze as we passed.
you're still there, aren't you?
waiting, watching for me to return, &
for me to remember who I am.
sunset, lighting up the whole world
those sunflowers glowing crimson & gold,
and in the last moments before the sun disappeared,
they hold on to a moment of time,
a reminder of those summer days.
in the middle of a town where people rush around day & night,
in the middle of all those modern buildings, modern people, modern world
you still wait for me to remember; in all the golden splendor,
in the simple fragility of your untouched world,
you wait for us to remember those summer days
that are now only memories, faded and almost forgotten.
Wait for me. I'll come back.
When we first met...
When we first met, life was good
Sparks flew just as they should,
But what I completely misunderstood,
Was that your intentions were anything but good...
There goes on a story
Full of lies and betrayal
Of games and heartbreak
That left me utterly miserable
Its a story I should not like to repeat
For it is too full of hurt and deceit
And too long and sorrowful to complete
Bearing it upon yourself would be too hard a feat
That is why silence is so sweet
When I left that wretched place
That most of us call school
I was regarded as a strange case
By all the fools
That was when he reached out
To ask me how I was
As if he really cared
About the cause of the pause that I had dared to take.
I remained normal and friendly and sincere
And just like his old habit he disappeared into thin air
I didn’t make much of it and now here we are
Standing at crossroads pursuing our own paths
We never speak of the past
Because what is gone has already passed
There’s no use recalling any of it now
All we can do is allow
Ourselves to move on
We can’t have everything we want
And that’s the story of our precarious bond.
Hate
My mother taught me the power of words. She taught me that "hate" is a very strong word. A person is lucky if they never have to use it.
My mother taught me that "love" is a stronger word than "hate", but it can hurt just as much.
Dancing on the Moon
Sinatra floated in the air, pausing only when the vinyl needed to be flipped. Her arms wrapped around me, and mine around her. The only light was the moon shining through the windows, as it was soon to slip away, and the sun was to come up.
This is the working title btw.