black eyes

and run them down her face

a terrace sewn in lace

like drops of misty morn

in coldness which were born

to tell a tale of woe

you wouldn’t wish to know

reside there in your peace

where all the world could cease

no sound or sight to fold

or mystery untold

take heart in unknown grief

no gift from wordsmith thief

why would thee angst acquire

ignite a hell of fire

for she but future might

or never set alight

so steer away from here

keep well away from fear

explorer, curse thy mind

for prying is its kind

with coming close to meet

is your unknown defeat

she reaches for your save

concealing there a grave

and then to see her smile

simultaneously taste her wile

for one kiss to ecstasy

can never more be free

the blade it enters swift

black eyes, these are your gift

©HeyHey 2013

as if

every note is a reminder of that song

when words seemed, o, so wrong

yet sit we close, the brink

eventually we could sink

but the melody does not cease

the crumbling does not ease

the pain of one hello

of never letting go

comes now the song once more

engrained as though was lore

this time it does not end

its message must it send

and we lay here in the sun

as if the world were won

©HeyHey 2013

wile the night

so, the thunderclouds have all but departed

as though rain drops never even started

and here comes the face of an orange sun

from your magic, girl, it is spun

sitting now on white sands, such tranquillity

breathing harmonies with the song of the sea

and as fine shells trickle through your toes

comes a smile that defines who knows

here’s a bed of sand where the sea can’t reach

the moon and friends shine on this beach

where in dreams we’ll wile the night away

never waking for the morning, closed our eyes will stay

©HeyHey 2013

This Is Sixty

They say the guy they nailed to a tree

is looking down on me.

Well, guy, this is 60 and where were you,

to tell me what was and wasn’t true?

No cries of, “Mind your way!”

or warnings of exponential decay.

No solutions to the ills of dreams,

or answers to why it’s never as it seems.

Yet the stars always arrived to reminisce,

lighting the fateful abyss,

and through this observatory glass

could more than one world’s jewels amass.

Not least, in spite of such absence above,

to date, it’s been a surreal passage across significant love

©HeyHey 2013