Dance.

You can dance a new dance if you want to

Your lives and your bodies entwine

You can move to the drumbeat of living

But I know you can never be mine.

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The rhythm of life.

I had hit all the wrong notes

In the musical score

In which rhythm is life

And where less can be more

Of crotchets and quavers

There was little I knew

But I had a degree

In singing the blues

On the mean streets and lean streets

There was nothing I’d lack

But I could take me a rainbow

And I could colour it black

I live my life like an opera

Set to violin strings

And the songs I’ve let slip

Were the best songs I’ll sing

So join in the chorus

And I’ll sing one last song

About things I didn’t do right

And things I did wrong.

 

Love IV.

Love cannot be sought or bought

Found or bound

It can be given

And it finds the lucky ones

It is given, to the lucky ones

Not necessarily the needy or the deserved

It cn be accepted or rejected

Accepted with joy, with mistrust or with doubt

It can be thrown back or abused

It can be given in return

It stays as long as it does

With some it lingers, some see it for but a moment

The unlucky not at all

Some find it once

Some will be found many times

It has life

Capable of growth and of death

It can be nurtured

It can be neglected

It can bring torment

It can bring pain

It can bring ecstasy and agony

Tears of joy and tears of pain

It can make loss bearable and at times unbearable

Is love a gift?

It is the ultimate gift

It has no monetary value and yet it is  priceless

It has no substance other than emotion

It is given so simply

It is my gift to you

I love you.

A quiet night.

Sometimes I think about no-one

And sometimes about nothing at all

I’m sitting here with my mind in empty

Maybe no-one could give me a call.

From the other side.

And down through all eternity

I dreamt I heard you call to me

That whispered dream that you did send

It brought to me that sweet sought end.

Love song.

I thought I’d sing a love song

From the bottom of my heart

I know how these things finish

But I’ve forgotten how they start.

The Flower Girl

I came across this image, which was originally in black and white, although I don’t think that is a reflection on her age. I decided to paint it in colour and had to guess at the eye and hair colour, so please forgive me if they are wrong.