Love across generations

It was the time to say goodbye.
My Grandfather weak and frail
held me tight. “When you survive
tell the truth. Don’t make them villains”.

At night alone, hungry they are villains.
I eye at a child’s fist of bread to survive
and die…later. Longing and fearing goodbye
as welcome cold comes. “Will I be frail”?

Now old and even my children frail.
I want them to know joy at my goodbye
so I burn memories. They have me, not villains
to remember. “Its love that will survive”.

My body did survive but the soul was frail
until villains faded and I could say goodbye

Who is Liz and Sarah?

Liz and Sarah

Fame’s Future

Do you keep in mind Pamelyn Ferdin?
You might if a child of the sixties.
Star Trek…My Three Sons…The Odd Couple.
Find her on null point web sites.
One day Liz and Sarah
will be what went by.
Ask my son whose
path goes on
when mine
ends.

One Route to Love

You Know
He wore my mother’s jewellery at five, danced in his sister’s dresses at ten; my make-up went twice as fast when he was fourteen. The only sport he watches on the TV is men’s swimming and today, he say’s he has a secret to tell.

As a mother, you know.

The Answer

Totally

She wore a storm-black, skin tight dress, high in the leg and low in the chest. Brown eyes matched her back length hair. Melon-red lips pouted as she rhythmed her way to him.

Forgetting to breathe, he gasped and shuddered, as her lips brushed his ear to whisper “totally.”

Sister, Sister

Hey Sis

It was so long ago, that it aches to remember but I do. If I don’t, then she is really gone. Was her hair, long, short, fair, dark or. The only thing I see in the night are her eyes as they close and I call hey sis… hey sis.

A River Broods

The Levee
I was here before they came out of the wilderness. Where once I gave life they imprison my body to carry the carcasses of trees. Try as they will to trap me with their puny levees, my anger is not held but grows to sink them into the silent cold.

Early Summer Reading

My favourite time

My favourite time is waking early to see a rising summer sun so I can sit in the garden, and listen to a dawn chorus fading into the sound of trees rustling in the morning breeze as the smell of coffee mingles with unveiled flowers, and a page captures me.