The demon’s touch…

Would that I could spare you pain
You feel the demon’s touch again
I’ll wrap you in my loving heart
Where demons can’t wrench us apart.
And as you lie in sleep’s repose
Protect you, I, against all those
Who bring such wicked dreams to you
I’ll take my sword and them pursue.

With honour pure and blade so true
I’ll drive those demons out from you
And peace and such serenity
Will be returned to you and me.

Would that life could ever be
As straightforward as poetry.

©Joe Wilson – The demon’s touch…2015

Laughter lines…

I can trace the little laughter lines
That have formed around her eyes
I remember when they first showed signs
And I loved them so, to my surprise.
We’ve laughed together over many years
And we’ve cried together too
She always drives away my fears
For her that’s what I do.

Over time some pain assumed
Some scars upon our lives
Frantic waits in quiet rooms
Prayers for skills from surgeon’s knives.
Through this I’ve loved and in return
Been loved far more than I could earn.

©Joe Wilson – Laughter lines…2015

Unconditional love…

Children weep over parent’s misfortune
But often say nothing of their own pain
And parents wrapped up in their own sad torture
Miss the hurt their kids feel once again.

If only we let ourselves see from their view
Perhaps we’d all better understand
If we just took that extra moment or two
Sometimes they just want a hand.

There’s no greater love than that of a child
But often, they feel over-awed
We don’t really need any book that’s compiled
To see they want love and accord.

The man in you will know this is true
The woman, of course she will know
It depends entirely on your point of view
But I like to see all children glow.

©Joe Wilson – Unconditional love…2015

We fall despite ourselves…

He never knew he’d fallen in love
Love was always for others he thought
Thought he liked a very nice girl once
Once even asking her out sometime
Sometime sadly, it never came.

Came the realisation crashing in on him
Him feeling a fool for showing he cared
Cared enough he realised one time
Time that was precious and slipping away
Away from him daily as lonely he stayed.

Stayed on that shelf that singles inhabit
Inhabit the space where lonely sets in
In to his soul and all through his actions
Actions that he always had in control
Control his watchword but for one time…then.

Then something happened that changed him forever
Forever, for he met the one in his dreams
Dreams you can never believe in the real world
World is a place though where strange things are true
True they became…when I met with you.

©Joe Wilson – We fall despite ourselves…2015

Yet another old memory…

Her perfume lingered in my nostrils
It reminded me of days long since gone
Of Mother making us treacle tart
And the way the sun always shone.

It didn’t of course, it was just childhood
And we like to think back to the good
Things like the sun always shining
And Mother’s delicious pud.

People then, had no central heating
In winter with fires, the house was cold still
And the water we took up to bed would freeze
Through the night on the windowsill.

Mother’s love was of course, unconditional
As was Dad’s till the day he died
And Mum dabbed on ‘Lily of the Valley’
As she stood by his coffin and cried.

So now, when a lady walks past me
Who is wearing that scent from those years
She’ll probably be a lady of advancing age
Who’s experienced those times and some tears.

And I will drift back to my childhood
But I’ll push out the parts that are bad
As I think of the fun and the love that I felt
I’ve no desire to look back and be sad.

©Joe Wilson – Yet another old memory…2015

In passion…

Undressed, she hooked him, a feast for his eyes
Wearing only deceit like a shawl
But still he found himself trapped by her lies
As he waited for night when she demanded his all.

Hard in desire, yet still deeper in contempt
In passion she drives him to pain
And dark of the eye and with wild hair unkempt
She demands him again and again.

And so again in deep embrace
In thrusting joy and symmetry
They slow right down, it’s not a race
Moving to heaven with intensity.

He of course, just kids himself
They’re lovers, there’s no deceit
The thoughts he has in passion’s stealth
Help make the act complete.

Many times he’s lain in this nest
He wants for nothing here
And as he sleeps in grateful rest
From his eye seeps a satisfied tear.

©Joe Wilson – In passion…2015

Emptiness…

Down came the rain
The world started weeping
I only felt pain
It was more than just sleeping.

Beat, beat, beat, beat
It stopped
My whole life ceased
You had gone away.

I cannot live alone
My frail heart cries
I find I’m on my own
A part of me just…dies.

©Joe Wilson – Emptiness…2015

When Mum darned our socks…

Thinking back yet again to my childhood
And the shoelace I couldn’t quite fasten
To the many ways Mum used to help me
With those little skills parents pass on.
Six children to love and she really did
She would though, she was our Mum
As well as soothing our often cut knees
She cooked all the food for our tum.
She’d darn our socks and wash our clothes
And iron things we don’t iron now
Then all of it would just disappear into drawers
As if done by magic somehow.
But Mum didn’t have it anyway easy
Dad died at just fifty-two
And Mum struggled on and raised us alone
But at night-time she cried, we all knew.
As the new day began there would be not a sign
Of the heartache her nights brought to her
She got on with the task of raising her brood
To her feelings she’d rarely refer.
Dad had grown vegetables to feed us
He grew dahlias for my mother, his love
They’ve both been long gone now from this place
Now they stroll hand in hand up above.

©Joe Wilson – When Mum darned our socks…2015

The sometimes unkind weave of life…

She looks in the mirror and there she sees
All the hurt and the pain of her yesterdays
Yet the laughter too, and all of the joy
And she wistfully smiles in a way almost coy.

Life for her had never been terribly kind
Yet she still felt that it was a gift, in her mind
Her kindness a legend felt deeply by some
To others, never simply a wife or a mum.

She thought she could still feel the cuts of the knife
As she looked back, just this once over her life
She remembered what had had to be taken away
And the reasons though, why she was still here today.

And though she’d never felt the least singled out
She sometimes just wanted to scream and shout
Then she went to her sun-lounge where it was much warmer
And prepared yet again to face this new trauma.

The sound had gone right out of her days
It was the hardest thing she felt she could face
And try as she might to live with this…thing
She so missed the sound when the blackbirds all sing.

Some of us take such things for granted I know
Never imagining that it would ever just go
To see one you love in this now soundless state
Makes you graciously thankful it isn’t your fate.

One day…we hope.

©Joe Wilson – The sometimes unkind weave of life…2015

(This is very personal therapy, it is much more feelings, than quality.)