Number one

Such a funny game we play:

Love and War;


don’t stray from my arms
for too long

or my thoughts turn grey

Lost in the Hope of an endless day


Love and Loss


I met love on the train platform

As cliché as this sounds, it’s true

The boy in the suit with the bright brown eyes

Walked into my heart for the afternoon.


But mine is a game of love and loss

And I play each one until the end

Without ever stopping to redeem the cost

Of a broken heart, never to mend.

stolen words

She spotted him in the pale moonlight, beneath the old Oak tree, and caught her breath just in time.

Just, she reminds herself. For once they were close enough to touch, it wouldn’t be so easy to keep her breath, or her words unspoken, to herself.

Words yet unspoken. She needed to guard those words – the final barrier between this boy and her heart.

Hi. That was easy, a word they’d exchanged many a time.

Only this time it meant so much more.

Don’t be fooled, she warns herself. This boy already knows more about you than he lets on. He has found his way to your heart, and he just needs the key.

This boy knows the trick.

The girl builds layer upon layer of prose around herself, letting stories of her day occupy the conversation.

Then, as she draws breath, ready to speak the unspoken, the boy’s eyes glimmer. Words intended for his ears are once again stolen by his mouth.

And those eyes. So close to her heart.

I love you.

He’d broken the silence, stolen her words, and spoken her truth.

And there was nothing she could do.

Or say, for that matter.


Back to Neverland

Orleans 2013 275

Come back again, Peter
We could fly far away
Let’s use up all of our money
And blame a rainy day

Come back again, Peter
And we’ll never grow old
You and I forget the past
And leave those stories still untold

Come back again, Peter
I’ll forgive the whole Wendy thing
Even though you’ve kept in touch with her
Even if she wears your ring

Come back again, Peter
You did promise you’d never leave
Yes, perhaps that was another life
A life I no longer believe

Come back again, Peter
We were always more than friends
And though time cannot cure me of my youth
A broken heart it will mend

Fly back again, Peter
Fly home to me
Give my heart another chance
Another chance to bleed

But, please, whatever you do
Just don’t let me know
That there was no intention to stay
You were simply waiting to grow

As the man you’ve become
And the boy of my dreams
Were never in tandem
A split in the seams



Mandela died today

ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas

the news of his death was no surprise

to a world already dressed in black

a world already mourning

a man who changed the world

from a world coloured black and white

to a world so colourful

that not a single shade

could ever matter the most.

We lost a piece of history today

ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas,

Let’s hope we can hold onto the rainbow.