Always the Bridesmaid…..

Why do they always do this to me?


You set out with your passion all flying,

Running with the fluid balanced in your stride,

You take me out to the furthest sound,

Lash me to a beach head,

And make me watch the patterns and the lines,

And always promise that the passion will have its flower;

That misty tear from a muck raked land,

Confused and romanced for so long,

You lead on and touch my gaze into a trance.


I think you are lost on your own myth;

That you believe in the being that has been created

From the carefully placed grains of sand,

You need to roll around and gag on some of the dirt you ignore;

Take back some of the time that you stored away and tidied up.


You waltz me to a ledge of crumbling certainty,

With vertigo’s sirens pulling at my stride,

But the fascinating mess continues to draw on my hope;

Romancing myself as much as romanced with you,

You take my long landscaped eye and lead it out to the bay,

Show me the light across the sound;

Make me watch the still waters lap softly,

Then leave me weeping with a sob of regret,

When really what I should see is a ravaged land;

Spit drawn carcass with its bones stripped bare,

The rape and ponder of the all the glass and powder

That was blown together to catch light like a thief.


You lead and I follow, always wanting to believe

That this is the one dance; this firm grasp on muscled romance,

This will be the one that drops us back into history.