The Affair That Never Was

She’s started wearing skirts again. And heels.
Her lips are lick-bright crimson; what they say
is whispered promise… even while she reels
off information (with an overlay
of laugh-congested, low massaging tones).
Professional and married, she’s confused.
A neck caress still fuels her daydream moans-
but was it only friendly? She’s bemused
and wonders if his mouth stays sweetly curved
for her, or is that just habitual charm?
She meets his eyes but shies away unnerved,
then chatters on with business-minded calm.
She’ll dwell on tiny incidents for days
but guilt won’t let a hint infect her gaze.

12-Hour Daze

A queue of saggy-jointed puppets slides
in caterpillar catch-ups. Jerked to stand
by red tape strings, each drags a bag, subsides
and meekly waits for wings to flee the land.

The metal gizzard fills. The mustered, hushed
and clutching at credentials, straighten spines
and readjust attire that won’t be crushed.
One flustered aura hovers, then reclines.

Suspended emigration, dozing frozen,
packed like export apples; freight, third class.
Their hands are tied as self-restraint is chosen,
limbo-leashed until sweet androids pass
with trays of welcome rations. They distract
the minds that were so eager to be packed.

Party Talk

A mermaid barely notices she’s wet,
immersed in water, just as I don’t feel
the atmosphere is false – there’s no regret
when I resort to letting words conceal
more truths, in decoy script, than I reveal.
I’d rather make you happy with a lie
than sink your fancies with an honest sigh.


The rain suggests a rest, from ‘work’ abstain
and set the mind to indoor ‘calm’ pursuit.
Exchange a shovel for a pen, in bliss;
release the words, all scrambling wistfulness.
Some music inspiration then recruit
until the verses form their own refrain.

Record an aching need in bold refrain.
Uncover, let no secret wish abstain.
Raw courage, let some summer wine recruit
in this brave, self-examining pursuit.
Reveal desires, hopeful wistfulness;
for self expression is a writer’s bliss.

Describe remembrance of a heartfelt bliss,
a moment memorised in life’s refrain;
return, relive the joy in wistfulness,
let time and other barriers abstain
from fading old elation’s hot pursuit.
Revitalise, eloquence recruit.


A working mother subdivides her soul,
despite rewards that build her feathered nest.
Demands conflict and guilt denies her rest;
vacation soon becomes her blinkered goal.
Some days that her employers don’t control,
a daze when nothing happens would be best,
in time all workday pressures she’ll divest
in favour of a more important role.

But aching to act motherly alone,
is ante-chambered by some needs: her own.
The vampire, Work, has drained vitality,
she fails faking fun so miserably,
her holidays are wasted in remorse.
It’s work, a mother wishes to divorce.

A Leader

At times my team will see a need through me,
a scene I’ve framed and hope to rearrange.
As window with a view of what might be,
embrasure open wide to winds of change,
I must remove the shutters blinding all,
exposing both the broken and rebuilt.
Transparent, set within in a sturdy wall,
yet I will filter light, preventing wilt.

I’ll be a doorway leading to the new,
which opens onto gardens rich with bloom.
A portal that invites a passing through:
an entrance to a place with growing room.

As leader I’m empowered to reveal
potential thresholds custom can conceal.

A Good Book

I’m lost and found in her; we’ve merged in mind.
Our memories combined as she confessed
between the lines, where time is redefined.

Her thoughts are mine and our emotions bind
us closer than true soul mates. I’m possessed.
I’m lost and found in her; we’ve merged in mind.

Her essence flows through me and I’m aligned
to heartbeats pulsing hope within her breast,
between the lines, where time is redefined.

I weep her joy, experience in kind
the pleasures she discovers; I’m her guest.
I’m lost and found in her; we’ve merged in mind.

I sob her pain and agonise, resigned
to facing fate as life somehow digressed
between the lines, where time is redefined.

As pages turn, more cameos unwind
but I can only guess at all the rest.
I’m lost and found in her; we’ve merged in mind
between the lines, where time is redefined.


Ideas can slice a concrete mind,
once challenged there’s no going back,
for old conceits no longer bind.
Ideas can slice a concrete mind
wide open, free to seek and find
fresh ways to sail, changing tack.
Ideas can slice a concrete mind,
once challenged there’s no going back.


When lovers lie all spent and yet complete,
the moment is a measure of our needs:
both love and life demand a laboured feat,
fulfillment is achieved through striving deeds.

When basking in that satisfying glow,
the fleeting pleasure of success impels
compulsive searching for an overflow,
exploring far off peaks and darkest wells.

A captured heart still craves a dream reward;
like roaming eyes we notice each new goal,
desire fires and won’t be ignored.
Such virgins lead to breaking our parole.

Contentment never lasts, life’s lessons teach,
we’ll always ache for what is out of reach.


The mystic trusts in doubt-
intuitive unknown.
Belief, within, without,
where fancy is full flown.

Intuitive unknown-
a deep conviction held,
where fancy is full flown.
Then truth and myth will meld.

A deep conviction held-
a wish, an ache, a need.
Then truth and myth will meld
and dreams awake in deed.

A wish, an ache, a need,
combined in faith, enchants
and dreams awake indeed,
spellbinding to entrance.

Combined with faith, enchants,
encouraging belief.
Spellbinding to entrance-
illusion: logic’s thief.

Encouraging belief,
awareness, inner force,
illusion, logic’s thief:
a miracle’s true source.

Awareness, inner force-
belief, within, without,
a miracle’s true source.
The mystic trusts in doubt.