cold

The Unspoken

Ginni bites!

We sit – in silence

It stands between us like a wall of ice,

muffling our low clicking sounds.

It has always been there

That soft, sultry notion of nothingness

It has always been curled around us

watching us go about our days.

Yet it was never visible before,

This silence which squeezes itself into our world

It was never so clear, to the eye,

to the ear.

Never before had it announced it’s presence

so loud.

And now as I breathe in our life

I hear the silence.

It pursues me with bells,

Lights a beacon under my chair,

Forms an exclamation mark in my mind.

I am deafened by the lack of sound.

Yet opening my throat to speak

only produces a soft click …. click

and so is the music of our subsistence.

But turning, I see your smile

glowing in satisfaction.

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How to cure manflu – Part one

Three sweet onions thinly sliced
Four thick garlic bulbs finely diced
A cube of butter melted down
One sizzling pan for glazing brown
Stir widdershins with wooden spoon
While humming softly, light in tune
Ready beef stock, rich with heart
Entwine balsamic, strong and dark
Two large cups of blood red wine
A glug of brandy over time
Fan the heat until it boils
Simmer down then taste your spoils
Season to acquired taste
Sprinkle parsley chopped in haste



After having a Get well soon theme pop up on the reader
SEE HERE
And chatting with the ‘suffering’ I felt inspired to share my cure in a more poetic form.
Keep an eye out there is more to come *winks*

Cold Nights

Its the way you shake your head 

When she tries to stroke your hair 

As you dream 

The disgruntled twitch  

Where fingertips skim bare skin  

The nights that once held you entwined  

Now force her adrift 

Where once you lay open 

Inviting her head upon your chest 

These days 

Replaced by a cold shoulder  

Your heartbeat sheltered  

Away from her ears 

Back to back  

She struggles to feel your warmth 

Yet in the clear daylight  

You ponder why she has grown cold