Can You Hear Me?

waiting 3

I’m a random face,

In a crowded world,

A single voice,

That’s barely heard,

I’m a lonely word,

On an empty page,

A forgotten scene,

On a barren stage,

I’m a solo piece,

In a hundred strong,

A supporting act,

An unsigned song,


But look beyond,

And look beneath,

Look around,

Suspend belief,

You’ll see my face,

And hear my voice,

You’ll call my name,

You’ll make a choice,

For I would wait,

A thousand years,

Just to be the voice,

That your heart hears.


Photo Copyright :

The Instruction Book


If love had a handbook,

Or instructions to follow,

Would the order affect,

The coming tomorrow.

Would a step from the norm,

Restructure the whole,

Would the world still revolve,

Or embrace the free form.


If I knew when to stop,

When to stand back and wait,

Would I learn to accept,

An evolving dictate.

Would I banish my fears,

Of a love that’s free falling,

And welcome the freedom,

That stalled the fate’s calling.


If I went with plan B,

Instead of plan A,

Would I drown in the glory,

Of every new day,

Would I feed on the essence,

Of a love more divine,

And drink from a fountain,

More heady than wine.


If only the handbook,

Was a little bit clearer.

Christmas Time

Fireside Christmas 3D Screensaver

Frosty tinted winter nights,

Where snowflakes fall,

And eyes are bright,

Noses tipped with redden glow,

Mittened hands,

And cheeks aglow.


Chestnuts roasting on the fire,

Where stories read,

Can never tire,

Ears awash with tales of old,

Looks of awe,

As dreams unfold.


Songs are sung by candlelight,

With voices raised,

In wild delight,

Songs that sing of peace and joy,

Of Silentnight,

And Drummer Boy.


Santa comes when all is still,

When all have crept,

Up slumbers hill,

He checks his list not once but twice,

Are you naughty,

Are you nice.


Families gather one and all,

To forgive the slights,

That we recall,

For Christmas hopes are not mistaken,

Feuds are left,

And hate’s forsaken.


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.