Ethereal Love

My Love...

Every day of my life

I have felt you

and yet you are not here;

just a revolving door of imposters.

You know…

I have been loved for my looks,

a pretty accessory;

but it didn’t last,

there is always one prettier

I have been loved for my body,

when it was sleek and finely tuned;

but it didn’t last,

there is always one sleeker

I have been loved for my house by the bay,

beautifully renovated at my hand;

but it didn’t last,

once sold, they moved on

I have been loved for my position,

considered by others of importance;

but it didn’t last,

there is always one more important

I have been loved for my sense of humour,

the ability to drag another from darkness;

but it didn’t last,

there is always one lighter

I have been loved for my mind,

my determination to help another succeed;

but it didn’t last,

once successful, they departed

And I too have been guilty

of being entranced by looks, power and status;

but it was never going to last,

because they were not you

Oh my love...

How I ache to see you,

touch you,

make love with you;

please come home…

... the side door is open

(c) Dianne Traynor  7 August 2012

Love

There will be times ...

when I annoy you

when you cannot understand my behaviour

when I will frustrate you

when I will want to run away and be by myself

when I want to be so close that you may feel smothered

when you don't even want to talk to me

and when you wonder why we got together in the first place

But I promise you ...

I will always love you, whatever your mood or size or age

I will make you laugh, even when you are angry

I will be faithful, although others may try to lure me away

I will be at your side, when you need me

I will keep you warm, when the world outside feels cold and lonely

I will never leave you wondering how I feel about you

and I will happily spend my days with you until my last breath

I am love

wrapped in a fur coat

and I am yours

eternally

(c) Dianne Traynor 24 September 2013

The Orchard

Air hit my ear from the hurried flight of the bird

The bird scurrying from tree to tree as if the Town Crier

Leaves swayed in unison at the excited chatter

As if nature was declaring the story be told

It was the story of an orchard

An orchard where it is said

That if two lovers declare their united devotion

Then they will be blessed

Blessed by the heavens above and the earth below

The earth upon which blossoms will fall to cover any cracks in their path

Their path that leads to where the angels sit in wait amidst the trees

The trees that will forever protect their love

It is said that in this orchard

Should the sun shine, it is a kiss from the heavens

And should it rain, the beloveds will not be cold

Because it is not rain but tears of joy falling from lovers past, and passed

Ah, it is the orchard

Where love is rooted to the earth

Kissed by the heavens

And lovers are eternally bound

(c) Dianne Traynor 18 September 2013

Memories

As I walked into the room

I wondered who this was

Such a small woman

Sitting in a lonely little chair

Trying to find the end of a straw

Balancing precariously in a little plastic cup of tea

She didn't even look up

No life in her eyes

Just a blanket of hopelessness

Draped over her shoulders

Tremors wracking her frail frame

Like a violent thunderstorm shaking a once strong Oak

"I love you"

I heard myself say

"Don't cry for me when I am gone"

Came whispering back

And I felt my heart breaking into a thousand pieces

Witnessing the pain etched into her tiny face

As I looked about

All I could see

Was the oxygen tank

And the dark bruises lengthening on her arms and legs

It was as if a banner of misery

Hung in defeat

Gathering a cup

I removed her teeth and cleaned them

Reaching for a comb

I tended her hair

Lovingly sliding the clips

I touched her face and prayed

A thousand memories

Raced through my mind

She took me on the train to the city as a child

She took a job in a riverside cafe

Just so that I could play netball by the river

And I wanted to go back

Back to the house

Where I gardened alongside her

Back to the Christmas

Where I took her to the beach and we laughed

Back to all those treasured memories

When health was her friend and there was still time

Taking the deepest breath

I reminded her of the last two times

She felt she would not recover and she lost hope

Yet we made it through

She looked directly at me and said

"I won't be coming back this time"

All air escaped me

My legs turned to jelly

My mind wept

Yet I smiled at her beautiful little face

Cupped it in my hands and said

"I love you"

As I walked through the corridors

I know so well now

All I could think about was the suffering she has endured

Over the last four years

And I took my ticket on the emotional rollercoaster

All the way home

Life

I couldn't help but wonder

Why is it so challenging for some?

Kind in deed

Good of heart

The world is a better place because she is part of it

And I feel so blessed

To call this once strong and formidable woman

Now sitting in a lonely little chair

So tiny and so frail

Just wanting peace

My beautiful mother

May God

Or the Universe

Or whatever higher power

Is out there

Bring you peace

"I love you so much Mum"

(c) Dianne Traynor 1 August 2013

The Gift (of writing poetry)

You write what you feel

What often goes unsaid

Words hidden away

Emotions desperately needing expression

In love with another

You suspect does not return the feeling?

You let it out on paper

Too fearful to ask the question

Suffering another's pain

Unable to let them see how much you are hurting?

You place words lovingly in a diary

So that you can be strong in their presence

Excited at a new love

Passion stimulating every fibre of your being?

You frantically scribble feelings

Not wanting to scare them away with your enthusiasm

Writing poetry

Is raw truth

But the reader never really knows

Is it you? Or do you speak of another?

Writing

It is the closest one person can get

To his deepest thoughts and feelings

To his very soul

Fear of criticism or rejection

Must not stand in your way

It is the gateway

To freedom

It is a gift

to yourself

from yourself

and from all that truly matters

(c) Dianne Traynor 1 August 2013