A Noise In The Night

The head of the stainless steel serpent rhythmically weeps,
It's cries echo throughout the glistening white ceramic halls,
Reverberating from floor to ceiling and wall to wall,
As it's tears tumble round and down into the grimey deeps.

Lines written in hope of seeing Orionids.

What a pleasant surprise
To see such clear skies
And just in time for tonight
To see meteors burning bright
As they streak by Orion
As I watch like Endymion
Trying to make Selene swoon
Under the glow of her moon.

What is in a kiss?

What is in a kiss?
I'd trade that and this
To feel the sweet bliss
That hides in a kiss.

What is in a kiss?
I'd trade that and this
To never to miss
Just one last kiss.

How Is It That?

O, how is it that thou,
With your eyes so blue,
Skin so fair, hair of a hue
So common yet unique,
Can allow me to peek
At thee with eyes anew?

O, how is it that I,
So malleable
In your hands, am not able
To explain the rhythm
Which my hear takes on,
Some sort of love drenched spasm
That lasts from now to anon?

O, how is it that we,
Both bright and both young,
Are not together
Exchanging wit and tongue,
To converse and cuddle
Whatever the weather?
Mind the puddle.

Fragments #1

For lack of wench and want of mead
My fingertips to my temple knead
Where upon I hear tick-tocking
Of a most peculiar ring.
The face of time this ring doth bear
But a smile, this face, it doth not wear........

Dark clouds above
Overshadow young love,
Rain pitter patter drips
A meeting of lips
The glowing of hearts
Never to part......

From thy beauty I lend my wit,
To praise thy beauty I use it
Along with aught else I can find
'Mongst books, the skies and muses nine.
Please be kind O daughters of Zeus
Fill me with words that I may use
To warm the heart of my lady
And praise thy gift of inspired poesy.........

This bottle full o' bobs,
(A whisky bottle no less)
Is a symbol of hope
For when times are hard pressed........

BookCrossing.

Be it on the bench in a park
Or on the steps of the town hall,
Openly welcoming readers,
Keeping literature and adventure
Circulating through fresh new minds,
Reminding all of the power of words.
Often forgotten are books, but I
Strive to give them a second chance,
Saving them from dusty shelves
Inside dusty rooms amongst those
New, shiny, fancy gadgets, so
Go now and hunt down a good book.

The Objects I Possess

O how I wish the objects I possess,

The contents of my room, the shirt on my back

Could speak out loud the events I forget,

The gaps in my memory that hinder

Me on my journey towards happiness.

Happiness! Potentially happiness,

Maybe happiness (but probably not).

Miniature flashbacks of words and actions

Of indiscriminate consequences

Hidden inside the objects I possess.