Home

A home,
A nest,
A place near you altar,
A lasting rest,

I lay this sleeping-bag-body down,
I lay my home,
Where ever your heart is,

It's were the start was,
It's where the end is,
That's my home.

It has a door,
That's open to strangers.
Closed to the dangers,
A welcome, cosy fortress,
My mattress,
Is in you.

When I sleep.
When I wake.
I am with you.

When I sleep.
If I make,
My bed on the far side of the sea,
When I wake.
You're with me.

My home,
My home,
My home.

seeds

Within the shell of the girl,
The seed of her,
Within its translucent crust,
The small and hardened husk,
The seed thought,
The essence,
The key,
To all she will ever be,

The flowers and thorns,
There combine,
Encoded in genetics,
Hidden from time,

But their advance is unflinchingly assured,
This seed could push up though obscured,
Through all concrete,
High heels on high street,
Though you once danced to another beat.

All that you are now,
Was there then,
All I was then,
Is gone.
An empty shell,
By the feet of the boy,
But you once bought me,
So much Joy,
And pain.
Now you're out of your shell,
I'm vulnerable,
And you are tougher,
Tough as hell.

Meandering prayer

May the path, from which I stray,
Be narrow,
But may my route,
My openness of heart
And my capacity for love,
Be broad,

May my meanderings,
Always take me to preordained places,
Sights I needed to take in,
Travellers who change my outlook,
May my map book be all the sweeter to me,
For all my wonderings,

May my returns to the way,
Be frequent,
And joyful
And may my destination,
Never change,
In all my roaming,
And dreams.
Back to the heart.