photo credit: Lieven SOETE Sounds of Longing ¬ 20170522_0713* via photopin (license)
Can you be stalked by a song?
Followed in and out of your dreams by a rhythm.
Melody coiled about your subconscious,
Haunting your hours hidden in the shadows.
Music in the motion of the leaves
As they dance around, spiralling down
In autumn’s romance with gravity.
Lyrics twisting their way like a river
Through the landscape of your life.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
The glow of the lights
Shines out across the water
Calling me back home.
In the chill winter twilight
All is dark except for you.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: quirkybird Goddess Series: Ma’at via photopin (license)
Stripped of everything but my soul,
Naked, nothing left to identify my mortal remains
But the record of my conduct here on earth.
All accoutrements of wealth, all holy symbols of my false religions,
All gone now.
All shields, all swords, I’ll have no more protections.
No magic spells are left to save me
Just an account of my actions
Where they weigh a feather against my sins.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: Raphael Perez Israeli Artist naive art paintings Modern People Sculpture Design Artworks City England WatercolorFlowers Houses Portrait Naif Artists Woman Pattern Mixed Media via photopin (license)
If I dream of you sometimes I hope you will forgive me. I hope you understand that I just need to see your face sometimes. For a glimpse of someone whose hair falls down upon their shoulders in that hauntingly familiar way, is not enough to sustain me. For all the colours are a hundred shades of wrong and beauty means nothing, when only your face has any meaning for me. For I can walk through a flower garden when the roses are in bloom and it feels as barren as a desert if the scent of your perfume is not the air I breathe. So if from time to time I dream of you, I hope you understand, I hope you will forgive me.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: tanakawho Night archer via photopin (license)
A straight line between here and the end,
Between now and forever –
Between forgiving and the original sin.
The arrow’s fight with time and space
Is a neverending race, a moment of now.
Resistant to the air, lost to the tumultuous tragedy –
Victim of the farce, the cruel comedy of life.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: Rusty Russ Barbados Sailing via photopin (license)
Even though the wind is against me
I can adjust my sail, battle on.
For my course is mapped,
I know my destination
A new day is before me,
I’m following the rising sun.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
The stillness of the vacuum at the heart of it all.
The silence of the moment that heralded my fall.
The sadness of the climax, the shattering of dreams
When reality is nothing like you hoped it would be.
The absence of essence, of reason to believe.
Of loss and the grave, and the inevitability of grief.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: Robert Couse-Baker without a trace via photopin (license)
After the storm, when the rage has subsided
A dead calm takes over. A false dawn is my fear,
As frightening as the storm in its way.
For you expect me to speak first,
To return things to normal. As if there is no wreckage,
No cargo to salvage and no survivors to be found.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
photo credit: Bharath Kishore Yin Yang – Eclipse via photopin (license)
Encompass;
Two merging into one
As you wrap your arms about me.
It has inevitability,
It starts a chain reaction.
Electron excitation –
Two celestial bodies
In a slow dance,
Ever closer.
Synchronicity,
Merging into one.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
A crackling fire, a comfy chair?
It may be warm outside
But I know a story that will take you there.
To a castle on the edge of the Fall
Within a dragon’s wingbeat
Of the end of the world.
To the first meeting
With the love of your life,
Who becomes vivid and real
As you read the words in the story.
To a bloody dagger, a world-weary hero,
A femme fatale, a smoking gun.
A passport to any place or time,
Far into any future
Or plumbing the gories of Ancient Rome.
Leave behind your cares, escape your worries.
Wherever you want to roam
I know a story that will take you there.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
