Union

With my fingers all a quiver
She sings
And we begin our merry dance.
What wondrous chance
Has sought us two out
To come together in this way.
And soft sounds silence the air
As we sway as one
Entwined, a love so rare
My heart-strings pulled, stretched, fulfilled,
Overcome as we ignore all other types.
There’s just me, with you,
My fingers dancing
On my Irish pipes.

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My Voice

Finding my voice, in this choir of calamity,
each chorus a mystery,
singing parts I can not reach
is a task I’ve been set

by choristers and masters alike,
demanding I find it, own it,
look for it in places I find hard to seek,
so fail

and instead settle into
my comfort zone, humming, drone,
soft circle of my personal scale
and feel some nurture there.

Tooth Fairy

She’s my darling, my love
And it comes to us all,
That moment of truth
When you have to stand tall
At the indignity
Of losing a tooth.

I comforted, I cuddled
I wiped away tears
I said you’re a big girl
Of many brave years
And there’s the Tooth Fairy
We’ll give that a whirl.

So she hugged me
And she loved me
And we had our nice fix
Though I tell you right now,
There’s no bloody Tooth Fairy
She’s gone 46!

Itch

You asked me (straight)
to write a rhyme
about an itch I could not scratch.
I told you (straight)
I spent no time
writing of such things;
only feelings of love,
or hate.

Though inside my mind I have an itch
which signs its name as ‘dark’.
It tells me I stink (I scratch)
wrong things to think (I scratch)
leaves no visible mark as I scratch
and as I stretch and reach for it, it moves,
dangling love in my face
and laughs loudly at my fate.