An Untitled Life

 

 I like to live the way I want to live

in my own company, completely free.

My choices. I don’t ask you to forgive

coz I only answer to one person. Me. 

I’ve been cleaning out yesterdays wardrobe,

my boots and pack are asleep on the shelf

neighbours to treasures from across the globe

above the costumes, that make me myself.

I bought sunflowers because they make me smile.

I have Frankie for when I want to escape.

My Sharpies are defenders of my creative trials

as I colour the pieces of my landscape.

My Chinese lanterns hang over Big Ben,

reflecting my memories of magical Earth,

collection of moments; who, what and when,

my friends as I descend, from birth to hearse.

 

Composed upon a hill

Breathing out my thoughts,

words formed upon Queenstown Hill;

“I am. I am here”.

Diagonal steps

long before the beginning

my road keeps growing.

Moments, I can

say goodbye to past me

just remember to breath.

Benches are made for rest

as I ascend the valley

dodging the boulders.

An iron gate creaks open

I follow ancient steps

in the winter chill.

The road changes

from forest to jagged rocks

the mountains are my compass.

The sun will keep time moving

but forever will wait

it’s just another moment

it’s just another story

it’s just my journey.

 

 

Journey

Inspired by Thomas Moore ‘The Journey Onwards’

The plot was marked above the earth

gravity she was breaking

her tail pointed towards her birth

and her eyes towards her dreaming.

It’s always hard to leave our friends

the people that define us

but on we go around the bends

away from those who think they know us.

The tapestry of all our years

tell the tales of our growing

we look back on them with happy tears

with memories overflowing.

Reliving moments way back when

affirm the threads that bind us

enrich our love again, again

for those we left behind us.

And as she breathes each foreign shore

and wanders every street

she thinks on love for evermore

and looks for it, in those she meets.

Another scene marks another weave

older chapters start to fade

but the light of love never leaves

and so her story is made.

So, when the road comes to an end

and her tapestry is complete

she’ll think of those from way back when

her people, she will greet.

What will your legacy be?

What will your legacy be?
Someone fetch me a cup of tea
Vacant eyes in a photograph
a smile with potential to laugh
the voice quiet and unheard
the writer speaks not a word
hidden behind hazel eyes
an ocean of silent cries
make your mark on the page
own your part on the stage
you’re the lead in your story
reach for your inner glory
stretch it to the sky like a tree
what will your legacy be?

Live the Journey

Originally posted for 365 Days of Creating Charlie:

Dwelling inside is my inner Alice

perplexed by the choices she has to make

the Cheshire cat, his words mean no malice

but enigmatic words are hard to take.

If the destination is unknowing

than the direction doesn’t matter

when the moments in between are flowing

that is when your road begins to scatter.

So, take a jump down the white rabbits hole

stop for tea with the Hatter and the Hare

scribble and sketch all over your life scroll

for life is outside society’s square.

To be here – is the greatest game you’ll play

another decision, take it your way.