I find you in a summer breeze
and Sunday afternoons.
I find you in a cup of tea,
and the smell of morning rain.
I find you in the chime of a bike bell,
and the nostalgic taste of childhood sweets.
I find you in the small things,
in the significant insignificances.
The woodpecker takes the role of percussion,
the bubbling brook,
the coo of a distant bird.
The melodic sound of the wind blowing through the trees,
the delicate crunch of leaves under the hoof of a passing deer,
the gentle humming of a bumble bee.
As the sun wakes upand sings her morning song.
The world is an orchestra,
building to a crescendo,
conducted by Mother Nature.
And you are the audience,
giving it the standing ovation it deserves.
One man’s ruins is another man’s castle.
Turrets, four; guarding against an enemy unknown.
Up the tight corkscrew staircase
Uneven and crumbling,
lit only by the moon through slit windows.
There she is found.
Fair maiden, damsel in distress.
Yet, her sword tongue cuts through your shield.
Her eyes impale, with a glare that says,
“You can not save me.”
For the dragon to be slain,
lives inside the princess.
Much a sweet nothings exchanged from lip to ear and lip to ear.
A shout into the void will receive a reply, my love, I promise you this.
The moon is our moon, the sun belongs to us.
The reason for the universe is simply for us to be.
“Go to your happy place”
lying on a beach in a far away country
with the sun holding you as you drift to sleep,
the gentle breaking of waves singing you a lullaby again again again,
icing sugar sand is your pillow; soft and warm it relaxes you as you let it run through your fingers
but i much prefer the sharp pain of winter on my nose,
artificial warmth from a woollen blanket,
holding my favourite mug with both hands and allowing it to scald my palms,
hard rain incessantly tapping on my window, like they’re canon fodder for a machine gun
familiar shivers running through my body, rocking me like a baby
This is my happy place