I am a dreamer

I am a dreamer
Seated in my place
I watch the world go by
Letting my mind run free
Pondering people and things
As I dream
Of things could and have been
Of friends I have never met
Of events that never happened
Of choices made I never made
Of trips completed but never left
Of the mountains I see
Wondering what’s on the other side
Hidden valleys hiding what?
Ideas that come and go
What if cancer was cured
Aids defeated
What’s next?
Here’s the answer
What’s the question?
So many thoughts
May never come true
May never be felt
I see the glory of the sunshine
I touch the rain on my face
I see the wind blowing the trees
I see the bees dancing
I see the sun setting
I see the stars above
I dream……


Time to get up

Walking thru a city once early I saw this old man packing up after sleeping in a bus shelter.
Who is this man, alone in the world?
Who cares for him, does he care?
Does he care for anyone or thing?
Who is this man, alone in the world?

All that he owns tied to his back,
Not tied to any place or person,
No house nor car nor wealth or heath
All that he owns tied to his back.

In public, a private man, clothed in dignity
Clothes tatty, shabby, dark but clean
A jacket, a hood, to keep him warm.
In public, a private man, clothed in dignity

A shelter his home, he’s there
Not waiting for a bus or ride
A hard place to sleep, hard to leave
A shelter his home, he’s there.

Looking on the world, young eyes,
Looking around at different things,
Looking into my eyes, a message,
Looking into my soul, my heart.

Who is this man, alone in the world?
All that he owns tied to his back,
In public, a private man, clothed in dignity
A shelter his home, he’s there
Who is this man, alone in the world?

And you are not there

A lonely man I saw one day at the sea, standing lonely and forlorn gazing at something no one else could sea

I walk along the road
See movement out my eye
Turning quickly
Looking for you
And you are not there

Looking at the sea
Imagining swimming
With you in warm waters
And you are not there

Lying, looking at the stars
The brilliant shooting stars
Imagining telling you
But you are not there

In bed, under the covers
Cold, lonely
Reaching out to touch
And you are not there

Too busy

Life rushes past
Too busy to chat
To smell the flowers
To dance in the rain
With your lived one
Too busy to sleep
To busy to laugh
To cry
To welcome the sun
Good bye to the moon
For that first touch at night
The last morning cuddle
To say hello
To say good bye
To hear the words of love
To hear the words I’m sorry
To seek the hand outstretched
To hold the fingers that curl
Are we too busy to do that
To hear the love for us
Are we too busy?


They drive me on
They allow me to live
What I perceive
But cannot see
Cannot touch
Cannot feel
But know
They are within reach
Just beyond my fingers
Taste them
Feel them
Know them
Can fill my hours
Can plague my days
Can dream my dreams
But always
Are dreams

A wise one

Seated in a chair
Basking in the sunlight
Warning his bones
Head bent over his cane
Hands wrinkled
His head nodding to music
He listens to in his head
Seeming far away
Seeming unknowing
Seeming ignoring
All going on around
And yet
He sees what happens
He hears the sounds
Of his children
And grandchildren
Coming to play
Near him
Around him
Want to sit on his lap
And hear the stories
Wonderful stories
Of ages past
Yet relevant today
Of heros and villains
Of treasure and pirates
Of granny and grand dad
His parents
The stories are old
The ones he heard
From his grandfather
This thoughts then
A wise one

Tea on the Seine

Story inspired by a silhouette photograph of two people waking hand in hand along the Seine. My imagination then runs riot and comes up with this. Enjoy

Sunlight glistens in her hair
Fathomless eyes
Framed in brown
A tea cup in her hand
By her companion
Comfortable in her presence
A centre of calmness
In a blizzard of talk
Admiration for her
Seated at a table
Facing the Seine
A backdrop to the tea
Strange contrast
To all the coffee
But suiting them
Suiting her
Drinking in who she is
What she is
The ease of an athlete
With an intellectual outlook
A fascinating blend
Sleekly fashioned outline
Gentle but strong
Appeals to him
No competition
He longs to reach over
Cup her cheek
Touch her lips
To kiss her
He watches her face
He is enthralled by her
Lost in the stories
Hidden in her eyes
Looking for something there
Not sure what
They leave
Walking away
Bodies touching
Hand reaching from him
Will it be accepted?
After the tea on the Seine