I Know Not.


Heave against the large wooden door
Dim and cool with its incense.
Catch the candles flickering glow
Burning for whom, I know not.

Gaze at the ceiling of painted faces,
With bishops, a priest and a nun.
A mosaic of a man on the cross on the wall
With Saints, of whom, I know not.

A woman’s murmur her lips barely move,
From behind me her head scarved and bowed.
Ignoring the snarl of the cars and the trucks
On their way somewhere, I know not.

Another bends to light her candle
Shoulders upright with hope
And stops before him to pray for herself
Or for others, whom I know not.

The old lady shuffles and squints up at me,
Sadness yet life on her face.
She crosses herself and rests on the pew,
To contemplate what, I know not.

The solitude and peace spread its respect
Inside the cavernous space.
The light from the sun twinkles its message
From somewhere beyond, I know not.

I can’t write about . . .


I can’t write,
About you,
My friend.
Your laugh,
Your stories,
Your pain.
Our tears,
Our desires,
Our secrets.
You left too soon,
I don’t know why.
I wasn’t ready for,
Our friendships’ end,
I still wait for the call,
That can’t ever be made
By you,
By me,
For us,
My friend.

The Kiss


The first kiss, sweet and soft,
To taste each other and find our way.
Yielding lips and tongue,fuel our passion.
Pull apart to breathe you in,
Gaze upon your craggy face.
Touch the lines, with my finger,
Push aside the strand of hair.
Meet my lips, our ardour done.

The Photograph


Elated, joyous smile crossed his face,
Admires his new fiancé.
Wistful, I spy behind the lense.
There was no one to match her
Her eyes darted about to rest on him.
His mouth receives her kiss.
Click, click,
Her smile eases through red lips,
To whisper only to him.
Cut the cake, the speech is long.
Drum beats, dance as one
The night is gone and
So are they.