Wednesday, February 24, 2016

The Words Ran Out

Tonight it hits me hard,
Realising how much
Spare time and silence
I will have to bear
Without your voice
Laughing in my ear,

Remembering how
We would have to pause
And awkwardly excuse
One or the other of us
From the conversation
For a call of nature,

Reminiscing over
Nights when it seemed
The words would never
Run out and we'd delay
Taking much needed sleep
With news to share,

Reflecting on moments
Of mischief when distance
Meant safety from your
Tickling fingers and
In the same instance
Feeling much too far

Away from your caress,
It hits me hard tonight
Recalling all of this,
It hits me hard to
Recollect such happiness
And know there'll be no more.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Photo Frames and Broken Hearts

Because I cannot speak to you tonight,
And because this is most likely just the
First of many such sad nights, instead I
Finally now make the time to write the
Poem that you wished for all that time and
Yet is certainly the poem you wished would
Never come, the one we never should have
Had to share and one that now we might not
Get to share at all with contact cut and
Goodbyes and farewells sobbed out through many
Tears, the drops of the past two years. Almost.
Twenty four hours short of two whole years,
This funeral song for twenty four months
Of shared days and nights and precious few fights.

Because I went to speak with you tonight
And because so much was said that needed
To be said and those words now have led to
This sad plight, this day that should have been the
First of our third turn to dance and dine and
Smile away this journey around the sun,
Instead I try to bring back to my mind
The frost that lingered in an abbey's shadow,
The green glow of spot lights on a stage,
The snow cascading on the gardens of a
Castle hotel, dandelions and sunburn
Over southern cliffs, bold adventures in
Secluded and romantic ruins of
Ancient walls and hills in two provinces.

Because it is unlikely that we'll right
Whatever wrong or wrongs which set alight
The pyre that engulfs the hope for more
And leaves behind these embers of delights
And memories of places and of pets
And recipes and costumes, cars and beds,
The flights, the train and bus to see the circus,
The comfort of conversing every night,
Because this is most likely just the first
Of many nights when I no longer can
Make contact and proclaim that I love you,
Instead, as you so quickly recognised,
I now embrace this bitter irony
And pour my heart out just a bit too late
To save what once was one, once you and me.