RAINY DAY

LISTENING TO THE RAIN PLAYING THE ROOF.

NOT GENTLY, BUT WITH THE FORCE OF A ROCK STAR.

MESMERISING THE AUDIENCE,

WITH VISUALS AND ATMOSPHERE.

HYPNOTIC DROPLETS MAGNIFIED.

SENSORY OVERLOAD.

DANCING TO THE RHYTHMIC DOWNPOUR.

FORCES OF NATURE CONDUCTING A CONCERTO.

OF WIND, RAIN AND THUNDER.

LUXURIATING IN THIS ORCHESTRAL OFFERING.

MY DAY COMPLETE.

FIONA

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FROLICKING

Foreboding grey skies

Linger above.

Birds playing their tunes,

A bush orchestra,

To those who wish to listen.

Leaves dancing to the melodies.

As if in a trance.

An orgy of flies

preside around the dancing leaves.

Awaiting an audience

To their debauchery.

The heavens open,

The tunes cease.

A cold blast of wind

send the frolicking leaves

To a watery grave.

The party is over.

The birds gone to bed.

The rain an unwelcome visitor.

To the bush celebration.

FIONA

NATURES THOUGHT

REFLECTING MAGIC BURNING BEAUTY INTO MY EYES.

MELTING COLOURS DANCING IN THE SKY.

HAUNTED BY THE STILLNESS OF THIS HEAVEN ON EARTH.

I HOLD MY BREATH SO AS NOT TO DISTURB.

A SHADOW OF A TREE STRIKING A POSE.

SOLITARY AND PENSIVE SINGING SONGS TO THE LONELY.

LURED TO NIRVANA, CONSUMED BY THE SOLACE AND BLENDED GLORY.

EVERY RIPPLE AND COLOUR TELLING A STORY.

SUBDUED BY THE ETHEREAL SILENCE.

A VISTA OF NATURES THOUGHT.

FIONA

ONE WOMANS LIFE.

 

You watch the fading light.

The shadows embracing your weary soul.

Tired and battle scarred.
To eat you must succumb.
Overcoming the contempt thrown at you.
You hold your head high.
Survival now an instinct.
Trust a lost art.
Each day it becomes harder to walk the streets you know so well.
Your once ethereal beauty lost to life.
A reality in hell relived each day.
Time and time again.
Dreaming of a life less harsh,
You pretend there is love,
A gentleness you have never known.
A glamourised struggle.
For you it is a means to an end.
Yesterday’s run into tomorrow’s.
Today is a mere existence.
You pretend nothingness are caresses,
The meaningless kisses, love.
In too deep to remove yourself.
You struggle through each day,
Every face becoming one.
Every body you touch a job.
You know no way out.
So you begin today, as every other day,
An existence.

FIONA

TOOT TOOT, TRAIN RIDE

SWAYING FROM SIDE TO SIDE.
LAPSING INTO A HYPNOTIC TRANCE.
THE TREES, BUILDINGS, BUT A DREAM.
WISPS OF LOST THOUGHTS FOUND.
MUSIC IN MY EARS, PEN IN MY HAND.
PEOPLE EXPERIENCING A DIFFERENT JOURNEY.
SOME HAPPY, SOME SAD, SOME INDIFFERENT.
THE WORLD APPEARS DIFFERENT FROM A TRAIN.
AN OPTICAL ILLUSION, SURREAL VISIONS.
BLURRED, LIKE MY LIFE FLASHING BY.
REMINDING ME TO SLOW DOWN.
THAT LIFE IS NOT A TRAIN RIDE.
FIONA

PARIS

 

MY MUSE IS A CITY OF COBBLESTONE STREETS

IT EMBRACES MY SOUL AND WILL NOT LET ME SLEEP

ONCE CAUGHT IN ITS CLUTCHES I FEEL LIKE I’M HOME

SEDUCED BY THE MAGIC AND MUSIC IT OWNS

I ROAM THIS CITY LIKE A LOVERS CARESS

MY SENSES AWAKENED, MY BUTTONS ALL PRESSED

ADDICTED TO MOONLIT ASSAULTS FROM THE PLACE I ADORE

LEAVING ME BREATHLESS SO I’LL COME BACK FOR MORE.

fiona