Tuesday, 10 December 2013


A single sunflower
in the absence of sun

windswept rays
of a swaying refugee

capturing bliss
like a beaming nun

gripping her gilded
bible with glee;

I have no way
of knowing the real you

or getting closer
than the last few feet

each time I see
your face, it’s true

though now it’s so rare
that we ever meet;

once, all was light
and they floated to me

all the shivering ladies
and goose bump breasts

and afterwards, we
would all seem free

of life’s little trials
and worthless tests;

the cold has arrived
here much too early

and the days are begging
for scraps of light

I’m still reaching, but
it’s always nearly

and our flimsy passion
will never ignite.

About Me

My photo
I'm a poet based in Yorkshire, England, sharing a home with a Tibetan Terrier called Bertie who has little in common with the terrier breed, but does support a free Tibet ! (Words & Images Copyright: Maverick Heart, unless otherwise stated).