An ocean of regret

Soft waves break,
delicate heart ache.
Salty foam, my tears,
on wasted years.

In soft sea sounds,
grace resounds.
Anchor me down,
before I drown.
An ocean of regret,
your leaving has left.

Not seeing the mountain

Sometimes the mountain

is hidden from me in veils

of cloud, sometimes 

I am hidden from the mountain

in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue

when I forget or refuse to go 

down to the shore or a few yards 

up the road, on a clear day…

Denise Levertov

Sadness is

Sadness is a cold still bed. Folds of your breathing now only in my head.
That single white hair, Once I was nestled, there.
In the cave of your arm, that's where you would find me, if I could only.
But you preferred strangers' beds. Your fire's desire left my soul in cindered shreds.

I miss public transport

No longer living in London means no longer having the luxury to spy at strangers on my tube journeys and draw them. Exchanging London's smog for Scotland's bog has been a change to say the least. But this pastime is one of the many that I am starting to miss...

Nature is a mirror

Ocean, tears, rain
All the same.