Thursday, 11 June 2015

Olivia Juliette

You cleave unto my wool-clad chest
as a starfish to a rock
with tiny perfect fingers clenched
and bootied feet a-splay
I watch you as you dream in sleep
of things you know-not-what
and caress your gossamer covered head
and hold you, while I may.

I kiss your head, and smell your skin
and taste the peace within you
Your tiny lungs take in a breath
and gently let it go
I watch your rib-cage rise and fall
so slight, it's barely moving
my giant hands hold you in place
but I don't think you know.

I wonder if there'll be a time
from deep within your memory
that you will get a feeling that
I kept you safe and warm
while you just lay there sleeping
and listening to my heartbeat
unworried and cocooned in love
protected from all harm.

For you, I wish a peaceful life
a life of constant loving
that you might give, and yet receive
all pleasure, without end
For holding you so close to me
I feel a bond between us
unknowingly, you give me love
my darling little friend.

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

In Memory of......

This photo by my friend and fellow photographer, Victoria Burns , inspired me to write a poem about the strange sight of a bouquet of roses on the frozen surface of a canal, somewhere in Scotland.

In Memory of......

A dozen yellow roses
neatly wrapped and cellophaned
greenery included
beautifully arranged
lying on the frozen surface
out of reach of probing hand 
carefully slid across the ice
by someone on dry land
They've been there quite a time now so that 
petals to the ice have stuck
and efforts at recovery
would need much more than luck
The clinging ice will not give up
despite the cold bright sun above
this symbol of remembrance
these glaze-wrapped flowers of love
The passer-by, her progress now
arrested by th'incongruous sight
of roses on an ice sheet
that were slid there in the night
She wonders what the reason could be
roses out of season would be
left here in this public place
to wither in the light.
Yellow rose for friendship
traditionally the florists say
so were they left in memory
when friendship went astray?
or is the feeling deeper still
did icy water friendship kill
and roses mark the horror
of a love tryst in decay?
The sweet juxtaposition 
of the bouquet over water
that as yet cannot engulf it
brings a feeling to her mind
of a moment held in timeless space
before the final resting place
where memories and souls commune
and life and death are kind.

©Rob King 2015

Many thanks to Victoria Burns for allowing me to use her photo.