moor is moor poems

Alchemical Wedding

By hasty marriage they have made their bed
And now they find there\'s nowhere else to lie
But here moss cushioned on the seamless lawn
Though even here a silent boundary\'s drawn

Each turning to the other seeks their soul
But finds a mirror in their partners eye
Confined within the chequerboard of rules
That governs who will win the war of fools

And as their finite love blows hot and cold
She watches from an altar old as time
And enigmatic hints that she has found
The pilgrims passage to the middle ground


Bridal Paths

I never promised you a rose garden
Your sky blue gown stained blacker than the moor
No diamonds glinting in the windswpt churchyard
No flunkies scraping low bows by the door

You\'ll not be swanking past the flashing cameras
or peeping shyly through a rosy veil
it\'s rigger boots you\'ll need not crystal slippers
A life more building site than fairytale

i never promised you a bed of roses
or waltzing bright eyed down the sparkly stairs
There\'s more to marrying me than once worn outfits
And rich bitch rearrangements of your hair


Last dance Anyone ?

Well fate
I don\'t remember
Anyone inviting you in
It must have looked tempting
From outside
Those bright lights
At the long windows
The distant glimpses
of people evidently
Enjoying a party
Who could blame you
For wanting
A slice of the action?
Such a shame the show is over
Just as you appear
The last slow dance
Soon to freeze entirely
Before the tune\'s quite played
These few fond moments
Never to be repeated
Except as memories of a final embrace

Handbag Poem

I am not a fashion accessory
To be hoisted lightly on your arm
To be dangled provocatively before
The less wealthy
Or less stylish
I am not a handbag whore

I am not all style no substance
i am not an empty shell
i\'m not a mere decorated surface
Concealing a nicely lined void from hell

Better choose stiut hide than silk or satin
Take the sows ear option every time
To keep shopping superficially for more
To keep ignoring
Content
Can become a real bore

I am not a crispy carrier
I am not an impulse sell
My soul will not wear down on the first outing
Nor tell the tale appearances alone can tell