Poems for Sunday

Odds and ends - about love, finding beauty, feeling empty and glorious nature

Patches

I tried to darn a dying love

With memories of riches

Hoped things we’d said in days of bed

Would hold as makeshift stitches

But sometimes you outgrow someone

And fail to notice it

At first, they contour as a glove

One day, it doesn’t fit

The past is gone, it can’t be saved

It’s way beyond repair

It’s come undone, the fabric worn

I do not sew with care

My fingers ache, I make mistakes

Contort from repetition

The patterns made are fluffed and frayed

Beyond my recognition

I can’t unravel, start again

But shall retrieve my golden thread

For life is but a patchwork quilt

And I have many squares ahead

Make room for beauty

Make room for Beauty.

You may think you have no space

If that’s true, convert your attic heart!

Strip it of darkness, add windows

.

Position yourself so you can see the sun rising

Hear birds lemon and liming their sky squawk through you

See time hang loose on branches, lucky charm

To be plucked and gazed at, ripe chance

But only momentarily

Because it begs with blush to be gone

Enjoyed.

.

Make more room for Beauty!

Bring in rustic magnolia jugs

Chipped as nail polish on an elderly gypsy

Fill them with burgundy Sweet Williams

Have their scent caress your inner arm

Visitors in thick brocade

.

Adorn your crumbling walls with Beauty

Paste possibility that curves as a peach, sings as a finch

Climbing clematis that curdles doubting demons in her cream, elevates your angels

But also, remember Beauty is here right now

See Beauty present, sitting quiet as a nursing mother

Wondering if you notice her

Smile, say hi.

Admire the infant, but don’t tell her she looks tired.

Tell her right now is beautiful.

.

Host Beauty as a long lost friend

The one you met just once, half a lifetime ago,

But knew you’d find again, wandering star.

Let her in at the door, know she will mend you

With fraying string and a large eyed needle you never knew you had

.

Make Beauty your cause

Champion her!

Have her gate crash your house

Rambunctious teenage party

Taking over with her noise, colour, texture

Vibrancy

Let her twist, thrust and slow dance

Before allowing her to chill

On a sequinned, velvet floor cushion

By a lava lamp, listening to The Doors

And

When Beauty has taken over everything you own

Allow her to breed!

Have her make babies to be adopted by those

Who also need to see her face

.

They may birth as petals of black dahlia

Crooked limbs of a three legged stool

Or the splatter of fried eggs jumping high as happy dogs to greet you

But you will know Beauty and her offspring anywhere.

And they will always be welcome

The doll with cold eyes

Vacant mannequin mother

Lips bled dry of their red

Duties rattle as marbles

Whistling hot kettle head

Words tumble as dice

As her soul slowly rots

Banished to the ice tower

Dreams of flames are forgotten

She can mimic expressions

Say all the right things

Function like clockwork

Whilst clipped of her wings

He stares at her face

Yet somehow doesn’t see her

Waiting hammer sways, inches

From porcelain demeanour

He knows it’s a sham

Barbed gaze carving right through him

Wishes it could revert

To when love was brand new

But her blinkers are off

Playpen maggots now flies

The best she can give

Is the doll with cold eyes

The View

Heaven tended pasture

Bent hillsides as a green spoon

A banquet of lush vista

For greedy eyes to consume

Who is this artful master

Sends each mute cloud as pale hound

To lap up scraps of humdrum

Suck pearl drops to the foreground