Poetry by Deborah

Feels like lava feels like lava
molten hot and then cold stone
feels like lava feels like lava
burning blazing and then it’s gone

I walked amongst the gold foliage
the fallen ones that are still moist
not quite crunchy under foot.
picked one up and studied it

I saw a rainbow today
Perfect, so perfect
but transient, fleeting
A chance meeting
of raindrops and sunlight,
on their way

You speak in monosyllables
between a galaxy of space
I try to fill the silences
of gaping holes words can’t replace

with children of two and eight,
you were just thirty two.
those buckets of water you lugged upstairs
had taken their toll on you.

Two magnets opposingly charged
high ramparts made night from day
I was house-bound, burning logs
while you hunted birds of prey

love banned but bans called
lines in sand, the blood lines met
through it all, joint lives unfold
you the keeper, I the kept

We’ve survived some tough years and so many precious times
we’ve lived through all the tears and so much meeting of the minds
you were my rock and I your shoulder to cry on
we had each others’ backs, we made each other strong

There’s a sign on the bedside table
“Fresh Linens” it boldly claims
change the sheets and pillow cases
fresh linens, no more stains

her life is full of changing linen
her hope’s an everlasting flame
but all she has are laundered sheets
she looks around, no one to blame

I felt the waning in your touch
but hope somehow still lived in me
that I could cause your heart to lurch
but I should’ve left you to be free

Surreality last night
I was walking walking
past many faces
wishing wishing
everyone

There'll come a time
when the world will be ruled
by people who want peace
do you want to be part of those people
or do you want to trap yourself
in a world of vice and hatred
where he and she are different species
where they and we are not to be mated
where black and white are not tolerated
together

Across the table,
eyes meet;
brown and green
camouflage colours
banking forest fires

I once knew a man who made my heart sing.
This was the man who was my everything.
When he was not in the room, my eyes would search.
When he entered it, my heart would lurch.

Lock of hair,
rock, shell, from beach:
futile measures,
you're still out of reach.

a wise man once said
it’s a long life
too long to suck it up
too short not to take a leap

and so I wonder
if we had to do it over
would we be together
at Christmas time

T ake your wretched offering
A way from my front landing.
I t has settled in enticing slivers,
N othing like what it intends to deliver.
T oxic as belladonna,
E verything it hovers over,
D esecrated and destroyed forever.

I'm too tired
to stumble on the memory of you
yoked across my shoulders
comforting, constricting
in unequal measures
too tired
feet catching, falling down
Falling down