Ditto !!!

She looks at him wonder in her eyes thinking,
why would you want to do that, am a stranger to you !
am I not, you don't know me...so why ? but she knew 
because she was Interested in him, as he was in her,  
then she smiles as she looks at him,
giving him a cheeky grin,and ambles away.
Because she has spied him before, intrigued by him,
for whenever she sees him he's always writing.
Although she didn't know that she was the subject of his attention
the reason that he came to the same place observing,
writing each minu'te detail about her, his focus so intent.
She liked that young man. As he arrives at the station way after midnight,
he looks around looking expecting, hoping to see whom ?
he finds himself a table and sits by a dim light waiting.
From that vantage point he could see all around him,  
beyond and over to the sky's, countless, countless stars
the silence of the meadows, the trees shadowing his silhouette
as the fallen yellow petals like a carpet all around him...
At the coffee shop which is now closed. He looks at his watch,
and he's glad he's on the road again, 
tonight the not so full moon peaking out,
but even in that light he can see her sitting at the far side.
The wind blows her hair as it floats swaying dancing in the wind...
She looks special nice, in that dim light as it falls on her face...
she looks beautiful. As he passes she reaches out to touch he's face,
longing to kiss him, she had to do something to stop him
from just passing by, as she slowly walks towards him and smiles,
reaching, reaching out for he's hand, & he fascinated looks at her...   
as the light shines at the very moment as they reached out and kissed,
she was so sure of him, but he rather ambiguously.. 
her way if you want the stars, then reach for the stars...
don't you forget-it.

Nemesis In Me

Your the greatest light I've seen, such a sight for sore eyes
you are that... that mystery great or otherwise,
you are the nemesis in me, the nemesis of life,
those pure petals of a love being born, before your very eyes  

There's music, love in the air,  there're always playing, playing
a very catchy tune, of this new dance craze 
as I show you my dancing steps, as we float round the room 
trying  those steps, with much love & laughter, so good to feel, to feel

there's magic in the air, as we twist, twist and turn,
as we look at the other, the magic, that magic of no return,
as we plant feather light kisses, on each others lips,
magic all around, it matters not if its light or dark,

we don't need-it ...it matters not if it rains, as we go out in it,
for the rain is cleansing as we hold hands, we're not bothered by it.
There's something epic about our world, of you and I,
Something Insuperable, so hard to overcome,

That's cruising trough our blood, our minds our hearts
but for know we have our dreams, our eyes our sighs
the nemesis of you and I,  the gods the punishment,
as it may come crushing down around us, the temptation of the moment  

all intermingled in-to a moment of madness, forgiveness... not needed
for we live, for the here and now...there may be not  a tomorrow    
this epic world of ours...our love that kiss of no return
the night  the moon the stars, in the blue firmament

as we try to reach high, for that illusive star, that's out of our reach  
no reasoning when there's fire cruising trough ones blood  
the world our love that kiss the  night...........................the stars.

When The Fire Is Born

   Those verses, that I write with the mist, from my breath,
   as I breath on the glass, then I'll write my verses,
   as I trace my fingers,  along the glass, I love you...
   at midnight you'll come, from the far horizon lost,
,
   with the flowers you picked, in that fragrant summer,
   that's when I saw the fire born in you, could see it in your eyes
   that inextinguishable fire that's all around you...
   as I write on the faded line, the rain came,

   not to extinguish but to make it alive,
   for without rain there sure wouldn't be life 
   I without face or eyes, but under your skin I am
   am the storm that spills over the river,

  reawakening my sighs my senses,
  those senses that are tight like guitar strings,
  waiting, waiting to ping, like when a guitar breaks its strings,
  those senses waiting for that feather light touch,

  known so well to young lovers, as they touch uncertainly 
  then I'll play with the clouds,the winds as I hover above
  I kiss your lips, as I take thirsty sips, you grown somewhat
  it will be no stranger but you... you my love,

  I kiss the sands the dust with pride, I look at you
  I'll be returning home to you...that's when the fire is born...

                                                                                                    29 April at 20:39 · 

Whispering Madness.

Whispered phrases of madness, as I whisper on to you

Between each walk we take, there's no fear, as I tap the window.

The tapping on your window pane, as I tap, and tap again,

But you've been on your night's wanderings, chasing that lonely star.

That flower I cherished, given to me by you, 

Was hidden from others, their disapproving eyes  

It's half, open bud & moist from the dew in the forest,

Its scent so intoxicating, and the colour of blood  

You are that man abandoned leaving, your roots behind

And in your body I can smell the scent of the soil...as your cavorting about

It's that scent of a woman the fragrance still in your mind,

As you come in from the streets, through a canopy of love letters

That's still burning, the touch of you fingers naked, 

On the pages of my poetry, one touch in the flowing river,

To cool the fire within, till were together once more.

I will go searching for you, wherever those lights beholds you..

 And the finely sweet surrender, that fire in our blood.

That's the words of poets that loves.

As I write in the tracks of my mind,

In your shadow the petals that I kissed, 

And kissed again, as I saw you bathing in the river...

Then the nomadic races and the bell's you passed through,

This inheritance I owe it all to you

As you opened the door,  throw away the key.

That's when my senses, my senses 

Overflow with your verses of poetry.

                         Connie .                   

                                       

"Its All Yours"

The sun the moon and the stars, that I've collected just for, you
as I was standing by the river side, waiting, waiting for you!
I saw you picking those flowers from underneath that tree, 
those yellow petals the colour of the sun, of the corn of the full moon 

reminding me of the wonderful time that we spent punting on the river...
in between the shops coffee shops or what have you,
people walking hurriedly like busy bees, and those cycling by,
so I slowly walk by, crossing that small river close to me...

the scent of those flowers, soaked in the morning dew,
it was so heady that I just followed my nose, and found you...
along those tracks another country, another border.
The signs were all wrong, that tinge of red far, far away

the abandoned desolate buildings, that once were so alive...
as I walk the foothills you come to a house,
where its said once a war was fought here about's,
as I pass through, you see moments framed in time...

with those petals in my hands, I sat on the bench once
when many moons ago, I sat in the shadows,
shades of memories, of that day to this day...
a room dimly lit in the shadows of the night,

in the sky, the purple sun and grey pebbles, on the tracks...
I sketched the landscape stretching before me,
remembering it was here about, that I wrote my very first poetry,
as I stand over the river I offer those yellow petals to the river

that's flowing unhurriedly, as the moon above shining just for me,
Uttering dreamily, it's all yours. 

                                        By Connie James...




                     

Solitary Flute

The midnight came with the beautiful solitary sound of a lone flute.
Its haunting melodious sound, that makes your hair stand on end 
Its dreamy like, one can visualise little pixies dancing in the woods   
as the new moon shyly appeared on the velvet blue firmament ... 
although with a treat of cumulus clouds... but I so love clouds,
the leaves on the trees dancing with the breeze,  
the sound of that flute so mesmerising, hypnotising ones whole being,
looking outside it seems as if I were in a fairy land ,        
forever framed in a dream. A dream of peace of understanding a dream of love.
moments like these are rare, very rare indeed ..as he & I sigh,
As I smile, as soft as the touch of a woman,as she kisses softly he's lips 
And the wonderful sound of the flute player...playing on
Like precious elements...grains of sand, that over millennium
develops in-to a momentous explosion, that fuses together like an infusion of love,
and the rhythm set by nature,is all that's needed day and night, night and day...
But we're always in a rush... no time to stand and stare,
running, running around, like demented soulless beings..
Please, please stand still, for I...for I am looking at you...
no one listens on, no one hears, no one cares...no one cares 
no one understands the meaning of those undecipherable words
and so the journey goes on...for we are on a journey, a journey of discovery  
a journey of uncertainty... as the train pull away sounding its whistle,
letting everyone know we're on our way... 
there's quite a lot of familiar faces, faces known to most ...
some unfamiliar faces telling their own stories,
and some in a muted silence...The magic of the journey,
going through darkness and light ...light and darkness
like going through different time zones, as it arrives to a sudden halt...
to the loneliest places on earth... was that station.
but I am no one special , yet am someone, must be somewhere,
or nowhere in search of a different meaning of life ... and love .
As the train came to a sudden stop...that's precisely how it started again...
Suddenly we get moving again...out of that forsaken station, as it were a ghost town...
and so the train gets on the move again...a lovely breeze blowing trough. 
without any warning the sky's open its flood gates,
and an almighty clap of thunder sheath and fork lightning shook the whole earth,
as if -it was tumbling on its own axis.....
Particles, fragmentations of a primitive naked earth in its ageless core...
A  clear sky with a velvety background  the moon light and its stars above.
And that flute player, playing on...hauntingly so 
there's always a meaning to unanswered questions,
being written some place somewhere. Like the last words of Tagore,
this is-the first of many, when a new soul is born...
Who are you they asked, no answer came forward,
as the years passed on the last day of the last sun, 
still asking the same question, who are you ? 
there was no answer...............there never would be.
And so the flute player, played on & on................ & on 
                                 
                                                 

Lost Dreams

Je t'aime... tres beaucoup.. A tout a l'heure.

She's sitting at the table writing, 
quite what wasn't sure..
one of her stories or some poem ...
the wind caught her hair through the open window
As it flickered over her face it made her look up, listening to the wind..
It was rather a windy night a beautiful night,
with the smell of the shore,
one can smell the sea before one sees it 
such a lovely smell.
the waves can be heard smashing against the rocks,
that whooshing kind of sound. 
As you lay there you can see the seagulls floating screeching by,
chasing other birds, they look so majestic as they ride the thermal winds, 
the lighthouse shedding its light ,
sending its rays across the sea warning..
of dangerous rocks looking rather magical.
The flickering candle light...lighting up her face,
there's pain and sadness in her eyes, 
but most of all there's that certain something,
that other people may call beauty.
She was unaware of what others saw in her
wondering why people would stare...
making her uncomfortable at times...she didn't like their stares. 
There's a knock at the door, seeing him there
her heart fills with gladness, running to him her arms encircling him, 
so tight she darn't let him go...she walks back to the table,
gives him the letter she'd been writing . this is for you..
haven't got much time, the boat is about to leave,
we hold hands and kiss for the first and last time... 
I still have that letter, ratter faded now,
but it still retains the scent in my mind...
of that time when there was love between him and me.
That yearning never leaves, never leaves you,
the smile lights up his face,
remembering seeing her in his mind's eye.   
retaining that memory from long, long ago 
the letter now rather faded, the long lost dreams.