REACHING OUT

Dedicated to a painting by John William Waterhouse...

REACHING OUT

From my side of my fence
Reaching out
With a little flame of hope in heart
And in mind a little doubt
Reaching out
From this side of my fence
Reaching out
Betraying the "benefit"
The fence offers
For kindness isn't pure
When offered for a price
Bound, chained and gagged,
In a body no soul ever lived
I want the flower I want to pluck
With one hand on this fence
(Yes now I touch you, I smirk)
Reaching out
From this side of a fence
Reaching out
To flower? To thorns?
Or simply to stumble and fall?
Nonetheless
Reaching out
-Mx

SWORD

WHITE

Against all resistance, survive! Like the swan in the poem:

WHITE

From under the laburnum
She rises out from a yellow lake
The white swan

Umbrella

Umbrella

Hid under the umbrella of diffidance
A queenly lass in a town so quaint
strode forwards towards the fields across
In her stride, a queen, in heart, a saint.

Every today is tomorrows yesterday
It could rain or it could brightly shine.
her tiara of faith her very own ferry,
her very own river and very own dime.

The streets of struggle are only made
of cobbled joy and feebled sorrow,
With lamps of wonder with light of awe,
And lots of life and love to borrow.

In a jungle so conceived by human mire,
through the web of confusions so unreal,
to laugh and cry and weep and hug,
through, to the wilderness so surreal.

-Mx