Low Tide

photo credit: Crunchy Footsteps Tidepooling in La Jolla- tide coming in via photopin (license)

photo credit: Crunchy Footsteps Tidepooling in La Jolla- tide coming in via photopin (license)

Wave after wave,
This life of leavings and goodbyes.
No crescendo just diminuendo,
Petering out into silent partings
And solitary sighs.
 
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Overturn

photo credit: Natalia Medd Wrapped in Winter via photopin (license)

photo credit: Natalia Medd Wrapped in Winter via photopin (license)

This is the leaving time, the dying of the light.
Winter fires may wait to burn the last embers of the old away.
In anticipation of the new emerging from these dark nights
Like a phoenix from the ashes. But this is the leaving,
The last post, and we are all prisoners of this dying season.
Hopes are all gone awry, it is too late to put things right.
Winter’s child has wrapped us in her embrace.
Her cold, dead arms encircle us.
No chance to overturn the order,
Season must follow season, we cannot overthrow
We must suffer winter’s tyranny again.
The glacial kiss of the unforgiving season.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

That Chaos Thing

So you’re gone again
Taken your light and headed home
At the first hint of tears.
As if you fear you’ll melt in the rain.
But you still want me to pretend
That it’s all about you,
That the planets and the asteroids
Are just hanging around
With nothing better to do.
For the butterfly to flutter a wing,
You know that chaos thing you do.
Shouting out to the universe to stop it all
Complaining about all that crazy emotion and gravity
That you claim is dragging you down.
Putting the blame on me,
Expecting me to carry the weight.
But I can’t, not this time.
It is not visible in my stars I think
Not now that gravity has moved me on
And the eclipse has hidden you from view.
 
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Forgotten

I am small
Neglected and broken
Put aside
In favour of newer toys
Bright and shiny
Presents unwrapped
But it would be wrong
To throw me away
And misplace the memory
Of the adventures
That we imagined together
And the games we have played

© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Endings

photo credit: The Grassy Knoll via photopin All rights reserved by the author

photo credit: The Grassy Knoll via photopin All rights reserved by the author

End things with a sunrise.
Make this finale
A new chapter.
For a new day has begun.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

A day begins

Day 30 of the 30 Reblogs of November.
I’ll end this month of looking back, with what turned out to be the joint top most popular post, in terms of likes that a single posting received.
I’ve chosen this poem to end the month purely because I was surprised and delighted by the response it received first time around. A big thank you to you all for your support.

Made of sticks and stones

Raindrops on the roof

Sounds like faraway footsteps

When heard from beneath the sheet

Cocooned within my sanctuary

Where you left me. Spent,

With just a veneer of honesty,

 

A single atom wide

All that lay between us.

Our bodies entwined

Fingertips gently touching.

My lips would rest upon your neck,

With whispered promises of forever.

 

Then I closed my eyes

To wake alone, without you.

I’m left to rebuild the lies.

The silken thread, wound tight,

That keeps daylight out.

The day begins without you.

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A day begins

Raindrops on the roof

Sounds like faraway footsteps

When heard from beneath the sheet

Cocooned within my sanctuary

Where you left me. Spent,

With just a veneer of honesty,

 

A single atom wide

All that lay between us.

Our bodies entwined

Fingertips gently touching.

My lips would rest upon your neck,

With whispered promises of forever.

 

Then I closed my eyes

To wake alone, without you.

I’m left to rebuild the lies.

The silken thread, wound tight,

That keeps daylight out.

The day begins without you.