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See there the changing of the light,
its fervency to bring in sight
as golden heads in breeze do blow
as struggle through the earth they grow.
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Eyes do see blue circle bright
the Midas touch of lighter nights,
spins the green of breezy branches
this vision of Spring so fast advances.
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Life passes quickly in easier haze,
as painful days begin to fade…
Unfurled this heart this mist does clear,
It looks to be a splendid year…
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In my dreams I see you clearly
no film of tears before my eyes
clear as a picture through a lens
before the dying light arrives.
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I ascend fast the steps of weary sleep
climbing to reach your call
but alas my efforts are futile,
for you are nowhere, not here at all…
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In my dreams I see your smile
the twinkling of your eyes
smell the warmth of scented body
I will not wake… I do not die!
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For nights bring compassion
there is sympathy in the darkness,
dreams becomes a cosy shroud I
wish not to leave.
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In my dreams I see you clearly
In my dreams I quietly grieve…
“Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through, to guess about what is seen during a moment” Carl Sandburg
I Missed You.
I missed you, when the heated rhythm of Salsa that feels so like chillies when they touch your tongue drifted across the dance floor.  I missed you as this enticing music reached my jewelled pinned ears. Where were you? when the luscious sounds of Sax blues caught my needy toes so carefully encased in high dancing shoes.  Where were those slim ‘sun touched’ hands that would reach to twirl me to the dance floor. Where was the graceful dancer whose gentle persuasion could spin me like a whirlpool, making me turn  and sway to the sounds of Latin beats and bluesy tones.  Tell me, where were those magical eyes those sparkling rays of light, that always laughed with me. Where was that smile, those breathy movements on the dance floor, those feet that could glide and coax the dancer from my soul.  How my heart wants to dance with you once more, instead of standing alone when the music calls to me. I watched the others spin and whirl but my arms were empty, sadness for your charms that made me feel like sixteen again. I was never a wallflower but she has found me now.  Where were you… when the deliciously heated sound of Salsa reached my ears… where were you?
@ Copyright 2009 Susie Hemingway.
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Sharp and crisp as snowy nights
crystal clear in prism lights,
gentle orbs that sparkle bright
shining are your eyes tonight.
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Reflected jewels of liquid amber
like dripping rich fondant creams,
chocolate in the deepest hue,
I bow my head to look at you.
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Eyes that hold this strangeness well
in candlelight they watch and drink,
forgotten words much time to think.
A bitter pill that’s hard for you,
as fairy lights come into view.
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White and gold’s, red and greens,
you simply watch in reverent scene,
reflections in those honest eyes
of baubles and of Christmas time.
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In Christmas lights my poems for you
expressed in love, a poignant view….
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Photo courtesy of Joey Moursi.
~Competition piece to raise funds for St Margaret’s~
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I found your words resting on a page
written in that slim stylish hand,
the book, a gift I think?
Not significant to utter or to make worthy of print
I studied them closely…
I loved you as the sun glints its rippling
shadows as they spill across my bedroom wall and
your book.
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I loved that you thought to write your daily notes
for me to read again during these Summer days.
I wanted to talk to you,
pulling at the grass of your resting place did not
satisfy… tidying the petals away did not sate my need.
Did not gratify…
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Endless is this dark road between us
I long to hear your voice!
Still as the sun glints these rippling shadows as they spill across my
bedroom wall – I drink comfort from your written words…
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Do you know it’s Summer? Do you know it’s Summer…
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Copyright @ Â 2013
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Feeling sad and cross today at the passing of yet another good Man to the dreadful disease of Multiple Myeloma. My heart goes out to dear Karen at the loss her beloved Hugh suddenly at the weekend. I have posted below a poem written in 2009 which sums up my feelings today. This poem was written at the height of my anger at such a hateful disease.
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May Karen find the solace she so deserves during these sad days and in the coming months. Much is now being done to find a cure but we so need more research into this difficult and most awful disease that appears for some reason to be on the increase.
All blessings dear Karen and  rest in peace dear Hugh.
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THE FIGHT WITHOUT CHOICE.
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It was never a choice was it?
It sneaked in and through
along and around,
this nasty wicked beast that coursed
along the channels of our lives.
It tangled and tried to spoil,
bent, broke, quietened and flawed,
it tried to rob, steal if you may
inflict damage and take away.
It encumbered, hampered, distressed and sapped,
this dark encroacher that went too far.
Still it did not spoil or mar
Love twixt us two,
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this fight… without choice…
If I could let you go as a flower lets
its petals fall one by one when life is finished,
unfettered, unbinding, unattached,
what a release that would be.
If I could one by one let loose these ties between us
let them fall and float to safely keep,
and so to live again.
I would,
if I could.
If I could shed my yearnings like an Autumn tree
that loosens it grip on burnished leaves
what joy that would be!
To bury those petals and leaves alongside my love
as a healing token to keep safe, to store my love.
I would – if I could.
For love lies sleeping in my heart
like a beautiful flower or a strong tree
which will not die or season change
which will not release me,
but will endure for all time.
If I could let you go.
Surely I would – if I could… .
Life continues as days creep into Spring
the darkness leads to lighter hours,
blizzard grey days turn away
and the ache in your heart weakens.
Did you hear the birds singing today?
Sweet melodious sounds of daffodil days,
the sky was a hyacinth blue of hope
as green shoots of a different life arrive.
The proud majestic swans walk the banks of the river Bain
stretching their long necks to reach towards the sun,
the river high, cross and angry with the world
as a face of courage captures strength,
my soul swoops and enters into my heart
as sadness flies away on the wings of time.
The Winter is over, the dark days are done.
Gentleness pursues my life now, kindness enhances it,
delight embraces it.
Solace appears at my door
And so it goes.
And so it goes…
This poem is dedicated to Karen Caraven Hannon and to Susan Patterson who both need your prayers at this time.
Calm are the seas I travel now,
the sail is down,
how tranquil is the ocean.
I drift past the deserted islands
with their scattered palms and
fallen coconuts,
I lay on the deck, with bronzed
skin and a salty mouth.
Calm are my seas as
I remember you with love…
The soft magnolia smell of warm breezes
whispers through my hair,
all is blue, placid and serene,
You are here in my memory beloved.
Always as essential as the mainstay.
Calm are my seas now…
This richly enthralling feast of eyes,
this bewitching walled city that sings her surprise!
The Romans named her Ebotacum,
Their choice of powerful authority…
A river runs through, enthralling
and plenteous wide.
With plethora of boats passing by,
on river Ouse, perpetual joy.
Beneath array of grey stone bridges,
garrets far above, their seeing eyes – their wondrous views.
From studios and penthouse places, a fortune now!
Affords this scene of delicious gaiety…
Sweet music from the handsome man with shining dreadlocks and sandaled feet.
We sat together you and I, drinking good wine, there in the sun.
Yummy food, some flirtatious fun!
The festive lanes of Shambles with assortment of old worlde shops.
In streets, their portico encrusted gargoyles peer from past, in strange odd corners.
The array of market stalls in garish colours.
All manner of life is here!
The crooner sings his catchy tunes, sweet memories from yesteryear,
that makes you wish to dance in city square.
This once 19th century railway hub, this bustle,
this fibre of good life, that brings the people here.
This template for joy.
This enticing city of York.
This God given day….
For Those Who Need A Love Poem Today
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Give me your hand so I may
hold it tightly within mine
and walk with you.
Give me your gentle heart that I may care for it
when days fall apart, fail us
or allow us to succumb to
the remotest corner of our minds.
Give me your love so I might take it
to a place you may never have thought to visit.
And then to weave it tightly in a silken cloth
that cannot easily come undone.
Place your trust in me to bring colour to your cheeks and  joy to your days. Give me your dreams that I may place them in a small trinket box for safe-keeping, so you may return once more and share them with me. Give me your wisdom so I may learn from you. Allow me a small place in your heart even though I am unable to yearn for more…
Give me your hand so I may walk with you…
All Rights Reserved @ Susie Hemingway.
As brush to palette, as hands to clay I sketch and mould my words. Nothing lustrous here no bright and gaudy colours, no smooth or shaped sculptures, just simple truthful words to look beyond, between the lines to find the crumbs of comfort I try to pen.
Words that spill like broken pearls scattered from saddened mind. The same feelings as yours perhaps?
The words fall to paper forming like inky dew to glisten and shine…
I seldom find the phrases I need to mend this heart of mine, to weave this magic spell for you.
As brush to palette. As hands to clay. As words to… Â Â All Rights Reserved @ Susie Hemingway.
Copyright 2012.
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