The first snow of winter,

The first bud of spring,

The first time you hear,

A nightingale sing,

The first bite of chocolate,

The first taste of wine,

The first time you notice,

The passing of time.

The first piece of culture,

The first view of art,

The first time you wonder,

From where did we start.

The first kiss of love,

The first hand you touch,

The first time you know,

That this is too much.

The first time your heart breaks

The first ache of loss,

The first understanding,

That love has a cost.

The first time is always,

The first time anew,

But the one time I loved,

Was the first time with you.

Walking Away

Hearing you say,

Those words,

In a whisper,

You loved her more,

You knew when you kissed her.


Wishing the darkness,

Could erase,

All you did,

Blinded by anguish,

I am unable to forgive.


Closing the door,

On the life

That we shared,

Turning the key,

And wishing you cared.


Walking away,

From the pain,

And the sorrow,

Leaving today,

In search of tomorrow.

Ship of Memories

Time again for Friday Fictioneers, nearly 100 people worldwide attempt the addictive 100 word weekly challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Why not follow the link and have a go…


Life is a vessel that sails by unnoticed,

Just snapshots of people we’ve been.

A collection of random experiences,

And postcards of what we have seen.


Strangers that pass without glancing,

Or a love we let fall through our hand,

Like footprints when covered by snowfall,

Or the path that is washed from the sand.


The shadows we see by the portside,

Are the echoes of all we have known,

The memories we hold in a lifetime,

And the reality of time that has flown.


For life is a voyage unfocused,

On a vessel that sails by unnoticed.


Kiss me again,

Like you did the first time,

I yearn for the passion,

Its memory sublime,

To feel like I’m drowning,

In a sea of desire,

To struggle for air,

To be scorched by the fire,


Touch me again,

Like you did the first time,

The heady excitement,

Of a passion filled climb,

The tease of your hand,

As it brushes my skin,

To tremble in ecstasy,

To burn from within.


Love me again,

Like you did the first time,

Brand me forever,

Your partner in crime,

To feast on your essence,

And drink from your power,

To soar in your presence,

And evolve a wild flower.

Welcome It All


You’ll never know life until you have tasted it all,

A scrapbook of images to touch and recall,

For the joy and the sadness of all that we’ve seen,

Are just snippets of time and the places we’ve been.


The breath of a sunbeam that wakens the morn,

The dew of the mist as a day is reborn,

The scent of a meadow in emeralds and greens,

The power of living and its forceful vaccine.


Summer filled childhoods of buckets and spades,

Castles and pirates and games that we played,

Swimming with mermaids away from dry land,

And dancing in moonlight barefoot on the sand,


The joy of that first kiss that came in surprise,

With a promise of passion and love in disguise,

The joining of bodies and that feeling of wonder,

And heartbreak that follows a love pulled asunder.


Time that raced forward now children were grown,

Echoes of happiness ease the suffering we own.

The fight to forgive the mistakes that were made,

And the struggle to hold onto the reason we stayed.


So welcome what comes, don’t cry or forestall,

For you’ll never know life until you have tasted it all.


I’m looking for the lining in a silver clouded sky,

And I’m waking up to roses with a heady scented high,

I’m looking for a clover with a count of more than three,

And I’m fishing for another from the plenty in the sea,

I’m looking at the gift horse with a bit between its teeth,

And I’m seeing all the pictures just to know what lies beneath,

I’m making first impressions that are true and are believed,

And I’m waiting for the storm to pass so calm can be retrieved.


I will not let the darkness rise, nor pain or fear or hate,

Instead I’ll let the good things come, I’ll sit a while and wait.



Every time you hurt me,

You said it was the last,

And every time you lied to me,

You said it was the past,

Every time you cheated me,

You told me you were sorry,

And every time you hid from me,

You told me not to worry,

Every time you deceived me,

You promised not again,

And every time you fooled me,

You promised that was then.


Every time you said those words,

I cried a little more,

And every time I heard those words,

I died a little more.

Three Men in a Bus Stop

Time again for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story for a weekly changing photo prompt provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. I can’t recommend it enough, give it ago or just read the many other, far more talented efforts.


Leggy tapped his foot against the stone, as a disgruntled Hedley sucked in a breath, swallowed and looked up,

“Will you stop that ruddy tapping, you’re killing me”

The tapping increased. Hedley growled.

“Thanks for the support guys” he mumbled. Not really caring which one of them heard.

The wall of muscle on his left moved forward “What time did you say the next bus was?”

Leggy’s tapping went into over-drive,


Muscles’ instantly flexed his chest, his aggression was almost palpable,

The other two shot back “Back down Big Man, we all know your ‘armless’….