sweet senses

I like the taste of brewed coffee to heighten my senses each morning.
I like the taste of your tongue as it mixes with mine.

I like the smell of a freshly peeled mandarin as it clings to my fingers.
I like the smell of your cologne hanging onto your skin.

I like the touch of my warm coat as I throw it over my shoulders.
I like the touch of your hands underneath it that chill me to my core.

I like the sound of my favourite song coming on the radio.
I like the sound of you calling Bye, Darling to me as I leave.

I like the look of the sun rising, slowly getting brighter as I drive on.
I like the look of you standing there, ruffled hair and pants hanging low.

I like the feeling I get when I think of you, when I think of coming home to you.
I like the feeling you give me when I know I'll see you soon.

Every morning and every evening, for the rest of our lives.

Good morning, Darling.

For the one who holds my heart

Listen

For the one who holds my heart

I ask you to take care

I may seem like a fearless one

But my head is unaware

With what it's like to love someone

As important as you

So hold on to me with all you got

Because I'm glad I've found you

Every Day

Every day I start a new
Line
A new thought
A new beginning
A better ending.

Every day I try to begin
Again
With hope
With trust
With possibility.

Every day will be
Filled
With love
With adventure
With friends.

Every day I am here
Is perfect
Is different
Is amazing.

More

Sometimes what we wish for is not truly what we need.

Sometimes what we wanted was nothing more than greed.

Sometimes what we ask for doesn't always feel so good

Because it wasn't needed, only gotten 'cause we could.

Corrupting moulded minds with items to possess.
Things are piling all around us and filling up our heads
with pointless rules and pointy tools. We're nothing more than sheep.
Hold on to what you value: the end takes what we keep.

Sacred in our hearts. Nothing last so long.
Sometimes what we wish for had gotten us so wrong.
Deeper in the thick of it, loving what we'll lose.
What more can we ask for? We're always gonna choose

More.

Blur

Swinging swiftly, I throw back my head.
The world's upside down, yet it still makes sense.
It blurs right past me but I remain on track:
Forwards, frontwards, backwards, back.

I kick my legs and hold on tight.
I swing with freedom and all that's right.
The birds join in with their flapping wings.
I feel like flying, but instead I sing.

I let my voice flow, like a running tap.
It streams through the wind, no sense of a map.
No pattern is needed, no real words said.
Just the swaying sounds of nature and the trees overhead.

Letting go of my grip, and putting trust in the ground,
I leap from my haven with a final sharp sound.
Everything is quiet, as the song came to a close.
Now to face all reality and break the blur that arose.

Small Moments

Listen

we sit in bed reading

there is a space between us

as we nudge towards the light

transfixed by our own stories

but play footsies under the covers

I turn to him and smile

as his eyes move slowly from his 

page to meet mine

I kiss him like the protagonist kissed 

her prince in the book I'm reading

I want him in that moment

I want our story to be in a book

to be remembered for all the 

small moments we make

in our ever-vast universe of Life.

Growing Up

Listen

School nights turn into week nights.

School days turn into work days.

Weekends turn into work days.

It's called growing up.

It happens slowly

and before you notice,

you're driving around

trying to find where you belong

which is Nowhere and

Everywhere all at the same time.

And people keep calling you

asking for help and guidance

but you're just as lost,

and you realise....

That's what life is about:

Being Lost.

But the world keeps on spinning

and changing, faster than you.

The number of candles grow

as the wicks get smaller.

Friends turn into lovers 

and lovers turn into nothing.

The world keeps on shrinking

as your circle falls away,

and you have to learn to cope

in the ever-changing world

of an adult wishing to be a child.

It's called growing up.