Thursday, 10 April 2014


The end of light had come,
Blackness fell without a sound,
Replacing shadows and glints,
To which all are bound. 

Then he called across the waves,
Then he called across the plains,
Then he called through valleys,
Deeply scored in gritted earth. 

"What am I to do now that you have gone?"
Whilst he hung his head,
In sorrow and despair,
A soft and familiar voice,
Answered as a prayer. 

"As you say I've lost my life, yet,
I will remain should you not forget,
And things you saw with open eye,
You now may view with closed,
And passions vigorous with fire,
Can continue in repose.
But you have our young to grow,
Across years yet to come,
So lock me fast as when alive,
And take me home again." 

Often he would return,
To a place of empty sun,
Speaking with marble lips,
With whom his life begun. 

As she said their young did thrive,
Through their eyes she shone on him,
Till time called each away,
And the coat of purpose wore too thin.
Then to the strand one night he came,
And whispered across the depths,
That he was tired of internal sighs,
Could she give one last caress.  

"I am dying," he said aloud
"Then die my love and fall."
He sank upon his knees,
Then gently folded into the tide,
Which cared not to avoid him,
But rolled him side on side. 

When the light woke the day,
And water returned to ground,
Two people had died on that night,
But only one body found.
                                                              © 2013Connie's Words

Tuesday, 8 April 2014

Escorted to Oblivion.  

They came through here yesterday.
Did you see their faces?
Mist quietly parted. 

They moved as best they could.
Did you hear their words?
Leaves spiralled down.

They swayed as snakes in water.
Did you smell their anger?
Some still carried hope.

Their shepherd's soul had perished.
Did you taste their tears?
Their hollowness quivered. 

They were turning from wood to stone.
Did you feel their love?
Mist rolled back.

                                                              © 2014Connie's Words

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

Cold Lake 

Holding tightly her hand
Crossing into forbidden land
She had found the only gate
Of love in a wall of hate. 

So the escape began
Of last woman and man,
Would it be death or life
Cutting cords with destiny's knife? 

Stinking pools of disease
Were shunned, and pleased
With their clever dream
Stronger grew the desperate scheme. 

Fording through the hundredth stream
Scorched clay becoming green
Secure enough to steal some rest
She lay her head upon his breast. 

In that breast beat a rhyme
Connecting ancient to modern time.
Echoing in it's ribbed house of care
All delusions that two might share. 

In that night their rippled breath
Eclipsed the calm mirror of death.
In a treason sleep the two were found
And with ambition securely bound.

                                                                                                                        © 2014Connie's Words