Tag Archives: love

A home for our hearts

Are you my girl next door?
Do you live on the floor,
Above my glass ceiling?

Are you the fire,
That glows in my hearth?
The warmth in the air,
Bringing lightness of breath?

Will we build four walls around us?
Yet leave space for windows,
And doors wide open?

Are you the roof over my head?
Where someday,
We shall share the same bed?

Is there a home to be made betwixt us?
Will our hearts form mutual sanctuary,
A shelter from the storm?

We cannot know if it’s meant to be.
But first we can construct a shack,
That’s temporary.

And if it weathers,
The elements well,
We can always build,
A stronger shell.

Laughter and light,
Will be our blocks.
Love and compassion,
Our sand and cement.

With understanding,
As our foundation.
Together in love,
Growth and transformation.

New Beginnings

A time to move,
Start anew.
Never thought it would be,
Without you.

But never mind,
We can’t rewind.
Time will keep doing it’s thing.
Finding the power inside,
Is such a beautiful ride.

Days keep on slipping,
Behind me evermore.
Every day I miss you,
Just a little… less.

Never forget the good times,
And don’t get stuck looking back.
The time is now and forever,
No more spinning off track.

Dragons in the sky,
Clouds whisper by,
Scent of summer in the air,
Soon I will not care.

Soon I will not care,
What you do or do not do.
Whether here or there,
I can’t keep on loving you.

A time to change,
It can’t always feel the same.
Something’s lost within your heart,
How did I miss it from the start?
Maybe it was me.

The journey to that inner smile,
Can be a winding, rambling ride,
Shortcuts exist.
But you’re sure to miss,
If you keep searching outside.

Looking for answers?
Then don’t forget to ask.
The truth can lie inside,
So we must listen to our hearts.

Dragons in the sky,
Clouds whisper by,
Scent of summer in the air,
Soon I will not care.

Soon I will not care,
What you do or do not do.
Whether here or there,
I can’t keep on loving you.

Unbroken

A thousand lovesick letters
Written but never sent,
Long before I knew the truth,
Your honesty was bent.

I do not need to bargain,
Wager my soul or more,
To keep that fear from knocking,
Upon my heart’s closed door.

A delusion can be a grand thing,
As long as you keep it fed,
I once believed that I was weak,
Monsters under my bed.

Lost in love, I lost the most.
Downtrodden and unspoken.
Forgot myself, I was a ghost,
But now my heart’s unbroken.

Appearances are deceptive,
My inner strength did keep,
I struggled to feel whole again,
Against those odds so steep.

Self-imprisoned for so many years,
And now my sprit freed,
A fortunate escape from darkness,
Chaos, jealousy and greed.

Intentions are irrelevant,
Words are softer than deeds,
The security you search for,
Wont be found in pockets deep,

A true friendship shall never be
Something bought or sold,
The only recompense I seek
Is in a heart of gold.

Wants and Needs

The heart wants,
The heart needs,
Not always granted,
At times appeased.
Life isn’t fair,
Sometimes a nightmare.
The key is to be kind to yourself,
Don’t rely on anyone else.

Kind words are blessings,
Forgotten too soon.
Unfair actions of others,
Inscribe our mental cocoons.
Words can also be painful,
So deal them out careful.
Never say never,
Maybe in time you’ll know better.

Fate is a temptress,
So don’t play her game.
Permanence is an illusion,
Deceiving the sane.
Don’t be fooled,
Because some hearts
Will not be true.
And know fear cannot bind us,
It shall only unwind trust.

 

Dark Healer

Everybody wants a piece of her,
A smile, a glance, a word, a touch.
But in reserve she doesn’t hold that much.
An absence of darkness, transformed by her light,
This is her gift, so precious tonight.

To know her is to love her,
Because we are not all that blessed,
With truly knowing what lies in her chest.
A heart full of gold… a soul surely old?
An innocent luminance… glitters of fairy dust?

Lost on the way to finding oneself,
Pulled piece by piece by claimants of help,
But she is hers, not no-one else’s.
Try to own her and you’re surely senseless.
What are you seeking to hold?

A flickering candle in the darkest of nights,
Has a warmth and a brightness,
But it’s not to be held nor swallowed up,
It is what it is, enjoy it as such.

Don’t try to chain her,
Don’t try to blame her,
She is the light,
Holds off the night,
Eyes are so bright,
Love of my life.

Time melts away,
In the warmth of an embrace,
Epic journeys mere stepping stones,
When your hand finds it’s place
In the palm of a beautiful being.

She’s finding her way,
A new way for a new day,
Her right and her privilege.
Life’s now a game we both lust to play.

Don’t try to chain her,
Don’t try to blame her,
She is the light,
Holds off the night,
Eyes are so bright,
Lost love of my life.

Dance With Life

I’ll keep a little box of hope in my heart
So that maybe we can share a life together again.
But hope is just that… it’s not certain or definite.
It’s just a thing we do to keep on moving.
Keep on moving, that I must.
A little bird told me, one I trust.

You were my little bird for many a year but in that time hope was lost to fear.
The sparkle in those eyes I loved so dear, lost its glimmer when I was near.
Nothing is just as we wish, your hair, your smile, those lips to kiss.
You are yours. You are not mine. A truth I knew but lost in time.

We got lost in time… our souls entwined.
So complicated to unravel.
How far must I travel
To feel whole again?

So to you my beautiful friend,
Go be free and spread your wings.
Know that you will always be the one for me
And that the hope in my heart waits patiently.

I know in my soul we are birds of a feather.
Someday maybe we’ll land on the same branch
And decide to build a new nest together.

Although the hurt I feel is real
I know now it’s not for you to heal.
That is my task, to rise to the challenge.
Letting go of the past, the pain, the strife
The romance I need is my dance with life.

Take me back to Turimetta

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Oh take me back to Turimetta
To the sanctuary of sea and stone.
Let’s play together at Turimetta,
Unlock those secrets yet unknown.

Take me back to Turimetta
To marvel at the moon and stars.
Let’s return again to Turimetta
For a hot stone massage.

I miss our time at Turimetta
In sunshine, rain or stormy weather.
When troubles fade away
And the song of life fills our day.
As we play.

So take me back to Turimetta
To gaze at the rocks of ambiguity.
Let’s go together to Turimetta,
We’ll drift on down the magic river out to sea.

We forget the future at Turimetta,
Where imagination roams free.
The moment is ours to keep forever,
Remember that day at Turimetta?

Oh take me back to Turimetta
To that sanctuary of sea and stone.
Let’s bathe together at Turimetta
And feel the pure love between us show.
As we grow.

The Love That Time Forgot

Under the twisted, knot-riddled arms of this hundred year old cypress, two young lovers used to convene everyday for lunch, a habitual pastime that lasted about ten years. During this glorious decade they became as much a part of life in the park as the great tree itself. They were in tune with the rhythm of that small, square oasis of green, and when they sat together on the shiny wood panelled bench, enjoying cool relief in the shade from the dazzling sub-tropical sun, it was as if the encroaching noise and hubbub from the undulating streets of Lisbon evaporated. Príncipe Real became their personal garden of Eden where everything was just as it should be.

Ancient Cypress at Principe Real

While Maria knitted blankets and weaved garments for long, hot hours in the co-op at the bottom of the hill, José worked as a pastry chef at a small café on the corner by the park, and each morning he would prepare something new and enticing for their lunch date. José was a gifted baker to say the least, but the food he prepared for Maria was created with an unparalleled level of passion that brought his talent to new heights.

A new masterpiece was conceived at the dawn of each new day – such as folded petals of pastry formed into a natural looking rose as delicate as Maria’s elegant hands, or a saucy filling of candied berries that oozed with gloss once the crisp shell was broken – so many marvels, never to be repeated, a unique art inspired wholly by and dedicated to his one true love and muse, Maria.

On the other hand, Maria thought of her work as a bore, a neverending repetition of the same stitches, the same patterns and the same styles, year in, year out, effortlessly dictated by tradition, something the old donas at the co-op just couldn’t seem to see beyond. She envied the free expression that José could enjoy from his work.

“But Maria”, he would remind, “I still have to bake ten dozen of each and every pastry in the shop, piles and piles of croissants and custard tarts, before I can even practice making something new, which I can only do for you”.

Maria wouldn’t feed his foolishness though, for she too loved him with every fibre of her being, even if he were to become deaf and mute and couldn’t manage to break an egg let alone concoct some intricate work of culinary art. She loved his person, not his performance. “You shouldn’t do it just for me José, you must bake for yourself, simply because it’s your passion”.

In José’s mind though, Maria was the singular catalyst of his artistic expression and as his love for her grew and grew, so did the ferocity with which he applied himself to his baking, expecting more and more from himself until his customers became quite astounded at his unrivalled workmanship, doubtful that one man could produce so much in just a few short hours.

But José had a magic secret that nobody knew, a special talent he had discovered only when he first fell in love with Maria. In a small kitchen at the back of the pastelaria where he worked, he suddenly found that he was able to slow down time, simply by wishing it so, and once he had finished his work in time for the café to open, he could easily whip up a compact triage of sponge cakes, arranged in three tiers and topped with a different flavoured cream and an assortment of exotic fruit, in a matter of mere seconds.

It wasn’t until Maria and José’s ten year anniversary, when they were to meet, as they usually did, under that old cypress at Príncipe Real Garden that time actually ceased to exist for José, but on this occasion without the effect of his mysterious mental influence.

Continue reading The Love That Time Forgot