Annie Jane

Mr Sagittarius, Man of Fire, among the trees,
Sat down and fashioned arrows out of wood and flint with ease.
Then passing, Lady Libra, who despite her grace and airs,
Was captured by the flame in him, so hid, and watched him there.
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Delicate flower, you have been growing alone for too long.
The soil round your feet was frozen by winter,
Your petals were brittle, their colour near gone.
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Back arching like a tree branch,
Take me and break me
As if snapping twigs with your hands.
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Brittle by name,
But nature changed her.
Nurture turned her,
Conversely, to stone.
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Someone lit a fire,
Knowing someone like me would
Find it, feel it… why?
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Above the imperfect nature of this tree,
Birds are forming silver notes on the stave of the sky,
And I see you in this, as I always do.
Some would say it's just a tree,
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I cry for you with poppy tears,
My lover somniferum, sleep-bringing wonder,
Dreamer.
For the sweet, delirious Heaven
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Oh lover, lover, loved completely,
Come to me, come calm, come rest.
You're wearied by a world lead-weighted,
I'm here to hold you, love you best.
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The fast ache of absence sets in,
Gets into each space in my thoughts.
Half a dream, and it’s yesterday,
And lilies blossom as apples fall.
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Books half opened
Lines half written
A bridge half built is halfway there.
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Today I'm told to love you,
Told to tell the world I love you...
As if I could forget that truth
For the remainder of the year.
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I do not love you by comparison.
It isn't borne of desperation, pride, or pain.
I do not need you for counsel, release.
I do not dream of you to alter you or your words.
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I have the want but not the means
To cry, and so I let the trees
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You are something
Beyond classification or description.
Something sensory.
Something
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I am walking with you, barefoot,
My steps impressed with the weight
Of your love.
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Locket.

Two halves, hinged, backed in gold and carved so carefully.
Two faces, inside, set apart and kept behind glass.
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Birdsong
With curtains drawn,
The sky outside
Is black, and warns
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Where do I begin?
Simple question, literal question.
Where do I begin,
And is all you see the whole of me?
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