Like me, accept me, want me, receive me.

Need me, keep me close, closer to thee.

Lo and behold.

No matter how considerable the effort devoted to the task.

‘Tis not, yea ’tis not possible, the whole crowd to please.

The mob is an unfaithful mistress.

She changes the chosen beloved on a whim.

She praises and curses all in one breath.




You long for relief.

You wait in earnest, longing for closure.

Being satiated, yet it is a deceptive fullness.

The bittersweet moment of betwixt and between, on thin ice.

The beginning of the end approaches by stealth.

The trickling down of a source already tarried.



You smile at me, my heart blossoms.

Your gentle eyes draw me ashore.

These dew drops of tenderness you shower upon me.

Quench my parched soul.



Exponential growing, gliding upwards.

Floating, fleeting on a fantasy flight.

High, higher reaching grasping straws.

Strands golden gleaming glittering.

Whispers, murmurs.

Beaconing, beaming.

Beacons, bearing.

Hollow, hopes.

Explosion, crashing, grounded.

Emergency landing, breaking boundaries.

Coming nigh, peeling, lingering layers.

Exposed, bare, barren, hardened.

Disillusioned, dissed, disquieted.

Wisps, strands.

Grasping, slippery.

Sloppy, smothering.

Elusive hope.

Exponential, higher reaching.

Shattered, glass ceiling no more.

So firm, having, holding, handling.

Raising, resurrecting, transformed.

Wonder, delight.

Gained, desire.

Never asunder.

Having hoped.



The heaviness sets in again.

The sighing begins.

The faraway, forlorn look sets upon.

The frown alights on the eyebrows.

Giving the face an anxious look.

Shoulders slump.

Head bows.

The walk is slow and laborious.



It is a process. Everything is a progression.

Clear away, sort out the junk.

Scratch, break, dismantle.

Dust, mop, clean.

Remove, rearrange, rewire, reconstruct.

Wet, wipe, dry.

Paint, decorate redesign.

Refurbish, refill, reuse.

Remodelled room, hangar now usable.



Mysterious, lovely, sophisticated, strangeness.

Curious, wanting to know you.

Moving closer, drawn into your orbit.

Your delicate, intricate beauty burst into sight.



Dear drying, wilting flower.

You were a witness to these decisive moments.

You came when we were at a crucial crossroad.

It was a make it or break it situation.

We had our backs against the wall.

Our hands were hanging limp, with discouragement.

We wondered, wounding, wounded.

We were hoping, groping in the obscurity.

Lost in the darkness of bitterness, anger, strife, and rage.

The murkiness of distrust and unforgiveness completely engulfed us.

You come to us at that moment, dear rose.

The vendor you belonged to approached our table.

“A rose, one euro each,” she said.

I saw you then, nestling with your buddies, in a sumptuous bouquet.

I never said a thing, all the time longing that my man would buy you for me.

He never seemed moved by you.

When I was about to give up, I heard him say”a dozen roses, please.”

There you were, our peace offering.

I held you tight, enjoying your delicate fragrance.

With each smell, my heart softened towards him.

In a silent understanding, we looked at each other and agreed to bury the hatchet.

I cradled you and your friends in my arms.

For you were the proof, of our cease-fire.

Dear rose thank you.




He looked at his children, wondering how in the world he would manage.

The depth of the loss and grief struck home.

She left too soon.

His life was full up till now, thanks to her.

She was his wife, lover, friend,  companion, a mother to his children and much more.

She smoothed all the daily ruffles.

She pulled together the family fabric.

She had borne his failings.

Where was he to turn to now?He wondered.

Small hands tugged at him, pulling him from his reverie.

His daughter looked up at him.She held his gaze with her big soulful eyes.

Her little fingers clutched his hand in a gesture to comfort him.

It was his undoing.

He broke down and sobbed.

He pulled himself together after much struggle.

Through, his tear veiled eyes he noticed his three other children. They were looking at him with eyes full of understanding.

“It is going to be alright, dad. We will teach you how to take care of us,” said his elder son.

“We will lead you on this journey of discovering life, through her eyes and our eyes. ¬†We will grow together.” added his son.

He breathed in and shook himself out of the stupor that enveloped him.

“I will stand tall again; I will survive, I will live again. Yes, I will get over this loss, even though it seems inconceivable to me now. I will because life goes on. For their sakes, I will be strong. ” He thought to himself.



On the surface cool, calm, composed.

Slow, unsure, unaware, ignorant appearance.

Internal movement, activity, commotion.

Build, create, finish, expand.

Let true nature unfold.