For You -- Morning Drive poems- Valentine's addition

 

For You

 

 

It’s for you,

I do these little things,

Sometimes I might daydream it,

So, perhaps you don’t even notice,

And that’s ok.

I struggle when your days

Are filled with strife,

And fear most,

 the days without

You.

An emptiness,

Irreplaceable

 

 

 

Slip Away-- a poem or song about loss, love and heartache for those gone.

 

Slip Away

 

The days stretch on like old country roads,

The sky impossible blues.

Your memory a haze of sun shimmered reflections,

But I travel on through.

Maybe if found the right words to say,

I’d lie to mother and the holy ghost

To keep us safe.

Don’t let me go

Don’t let me slip, slip away.

Your eyes spark as

Crinkled crows’ feet say,

The words I wished came easier

The words I couldn’t say

Don’t let me go

Don’t let me slip, slip away

Worlds swim by

And I’m in a glass bottom boat

Looking for you, looking back at me

My minds afloat.

Don’t let me go

Don’t let me slip, slip away

I think of all the things, too many to hold.

My mind’s scattered

 like debris on a highway shoulder,

Discarded remnants of yesterday’s decisions

My mind’s afloat

Don’t let me go

Don’t let me slip, slip away

 

 

 

 

 

Big black car

 

 

Big Black Car

 

It’s parked outside my bedroom,

 idling.

There must have been an upgrade,

For the dogs long gone.

I’m sure there’s others too,

Just like this one,

 Engine humming

And sleek as hell.

Waiting,

Waiting to tear through

scattered alleyways and the nameless streets

of our unspoken pitfalls

and broken mirror promises.

 

SARGE

 

 

New painting for the post-Christmas belly-- Christmas lights

 

Chrissy

 

Chrissy

 

We got two Woolies chooks this time,

And bread rolls, seeded and plain,

You know, for everyone;

And salad for the vego,

So, she’ll be right.

Glasses were raised for those,

Whose seat lay still,

And the bonbons broke the ice,

Making us Kings and Queens

Of paper tissue novelties.

Laughter heckled any worries

And the desserts came too soon.

We must see each other more often,

echoed on guilted lips.

Until, until,

December rolls again.

 

SARGE

 

 

 

Fun times with my buddy Falco giving the neighbourhood a little glow up!

 

Mismatched Mugs

 

Mismatched Mugs

 

Mismatched and slightly chipped,

We’re collection of sorts,

Each of us has a story,

Holding dear the coffee-stained veneer

And tired patterns,

Like a badge of honour.

A testament to our unity.

 It’s only when guests arrive

That we truly come together.

No-one says anything

But we know.

 

 

MRSARGE