If the two could see the sorrow in their eyes,
The silent bond that words would break,
Their wounds would heal, and love renew;
Yet still, they suffer from mistake.
Yet still, a light remains unseen,
A flicker faint beneath the grief;
If only they could let it rise,
Yet still, they cling to disbelief.
O Headache, thou art a silent warrior, with a crown of thorny rose,
That tightens with an iron grip, from my temples to my nose.
Thy subjects, we, in futile fight, do seek to ease our plight,
With potions, pills, and whispered spells, in the dimming of the light.
“Ode to a Headache,” I do declare, with a wry and weary smile,
For this royal pain within my head has lingered quite a while.
It taps upon my temples, a relentless, throbbing beat,
A reminder of the night before, and all that I did eat.
The chocolate was a villain, red wine played its part,
Each a merry prankster in the throbbing of my heart.
But fear not, for this tale does hold a twist or two,
For I’ve found a secret weapon, a potion tried and true.
With water as my ally, and rest to lead the charge,
I’ll banish this foul jester, and set my brain at large.
Her hair, a cascade of shadows, spun from silken night,
Frames her work, a masterpiece, in the morning’s gentle light.
Drawing closer, she weaves a path, where flowers bloom and grow,
As if the earth itself responds, to the grace she does bestow.
We probe the boundless cosmic night,
And in the atom’s heart, we seek the light.
We claim the mysteries that nature hides,
But chase reflections of our minds.
The earth,
once clad in winter’s shroud,
now wears the Easter cloak of spring’s rebirth.
From the darkness
light reclaims its throne,
and the rivers run with wine.
Upon the stage of fate, in Deptford’s gloom,
Where cobblestones echoed with whispered dread,
Marlowe, with gasping breath, met his doom,
“Neptune’s ocean clears not this blood,” he said.
In that dimly lit, foreboding room,
The world had lost a voice, too early, too soon.
——
A penguin once swam to a faraway land,
For sunshine and heat, his holiday planned,
But he baked in the sun,
Squawked, “This isn’t fun!”
And waddled back home, rather tanned.
A baron from old Aberdeen,
Declared, “Our weather’s so verily mean!”
One minute it’s sunny,
The next, it’s all runny,
It’s like nature’s own washing machine!
In depths where earth’s rich heart lies bare and vast,
Where rivers sing to mountains, old and wise,
There blooms a love as wide, as deep, as fast,
As stars that dance in unending skies.
With words as tender as the day’s first kiss,
A voice, in whispered tones, confides,
Revealing love’s most intricate abyss,
Where every shadow, every light, resides.
I was the song in a heart’s quiet plea,
A melody of what was meant to be.
I was, and yet, I am still here,
In every laugh, in every tear.
I was the whisper before the dawn,
The first hint of light on a day reborn.
I am the murmur in the morning breeze,
The quiet hum that dances through the trees.
I am the shadow stretching at the dawn,
The fleeting moment before the night is gone.
I am the silence in a crowded room,
The lingering scent of a hidden bloom.
I am the warmth of a heartfelt embrace,
The clear calm in our sacred space.
I am the courage in the face of fear,
The steadfast hope that draws you near.
I will be the warmth in the winter’s cold,
A comforting embrace retold.
I will be the laughter in the rain,
Turning each sorrow into our refrain.
I will be the relief in the storm’s rage,
A steady presence, an unwavering face.
I will be the peace in the tumultuous sea,
A beacon of hope for you and for me.
I will be the dream that never fades,
A myriad of colours in endless shades.
I will be the courage in your heart,
A promise that we shall never part.
I will be all that I can be,
For in my eyes, it’s you I see.
Unclothed of thoughts, murmuring in the breeze,
Under the audience of the leaves,
Where lips feel the warmth of other lips:
Mine yearn for you, deeper in your kiss.
By night we have our chance,
Embraced in a candlelit trance;
Though lifetimes keep our arms apart,
In dreamscape realms, we share a single heart.
Robert Walker 