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You are my eternal Summer;
you are my beautiful, hopeful,
mutual, truthful, jewel,
and spiritual light of inspiration,
my endless days of wonder;
you are my princess atop of a high tower;
you are a promise of a beautiful tomorrow,
who I think of as a mesmerizing, glowing,
complex, gorgeous, and stunning sunflower.
You make my dreams into words;
you make my words into reality;
you make a song that is more beautiful to listen to
than that of a birds;
you make things feel as they should,
like I alone never could;
you make me happy.
You hear a song;
you listen to my song;
you sing along;
you see the right where others see the wrong.
You feel heat and you run with it;
you get a thought in your head
and your mind and imagination goes supersonic;
you can do a thousand things from anywhere that you sit;
you take me to a place every day
that feels like somewhere limitless and cosmic.
Love like this cannot happen with a wish;
a connection like ours doesn’t just happen;
a meeting of two hearts and two souls to become one
is like the synchronicity that the Earth has with the sun;
feeling like you have found your soul-mate is worth the wait;
everything begins again, everything is brand new,
everything is certain, everything always comes back,
and is about me and you.
I could talk for hours about how much you mean to me;
I could listen to you talk all day long;
I could write a thousand poems and a million words of poetry;
I could talk about what I love about you
and about how much I love you
for a week with my voice still full of passion
at describing you, and still going strong.
When destiny bought us together for the first time,
when I saw the rest of the world flash by me
like the shooting-stars of a meteor shower,
when I knew my heart was no longer just mine,
I had a revelation of heaven,
I saw the face of the divine,
I saw you smiling back at me,
beaming, luminous, rapturous,
and as breath-taking as a sunflower.
The sun is strong,
the temperature is hot,
the air like it is on fire,
the skin of everyone is burning and red-
no one wants to be inside on a day like today,
but no one wants to be scorched by the sun’s rays for too long:
you may love the sun, you may not,
but the sun can be too much for some sometimes,
and it can make people tired;
nevertheless though there is no way,
when the weather is like it is today,
anyone could possibly choose to stay in bed.
The heat of the city feels like a wave of energy;
the people out and about are like an ocean;
the shops and businesses have all there doors and windows open;
the breeze of the wind makes people feel at ease;
the life of many things combine,
and what can be felt and sensed
is like intoxication from fine wine.
The open spaces are like a haven for sun-worshipers;
the amount of people on the streets
is truly inspiring for street artists;
the food and drink being consumed
makes the entire day feel like a party;
the enjoyment that is openly apparent
makes it seem like everyone is on holiday.
Summer in the city, in any city around the world,
is different to spending your time on an island beach,
or in a town in a popular hot country,
where the sea, and the tops of mountains,
when they are touched by the sun shine like pearls;
summer in the city is an inspiring time and place-
there is so much to attract your attention,
and so many things to put a smile on your face.
Summer in the city is full of infinite sights, sounds,
smells, and tastes;
summer in the city is filled with tantalizing invitations
that only a fool would let go to waste;
summer in the city is like a bubbling coffee pot;
summer in the city- the metal, the windows, the ground,
the people, are hot.
Dancing in the dark around the light,
on a hot Summer night,
creating a beautiful spectacle
as they dart around so fast,
a constellation of lightning bugs fly and glow
and make children and adults feel awestruck and alive
as they watch the magical light show.
I have always been fascinated by miracles of life
that have the gift to be able to generate their own natural light,
I have always thought of myself as a firefly or a lightning bug
attracted by and also unknowingly generating my own trail
for others to follow, like the electric breadcrumbs
of streetlights at midnight.
I often feel like a big kid,
because as I have got older
I have refused to give up on seeing the world
and marveling at the new, the phenomenal,
and the exciting, and I plan to continue
to see the good before I see the bad;
I will never take for granted what I have,
and I will try not to pine
for that which I didn’t need in the first place,
and never want for which I never had.
Even in the darkness,
at all hours of the day,
even at night under a full-moon,
life of every kind is awake
and showing the colours of its plume.
I have always thought that at magic hour of sunset
the world is in the throws of a transition
and change that can be seen as well as a felt-
I believe that certain animals and people
have a sense of this, and an instinct for it,
and that is what makes me think that all the stories
and myths about the supernatural
have more truth to them than we know fully,
and that it is no coincidence that so many stories
and tales take place around twilight.
I have always wanted to see
and I have always wanted to hold
an integral piece of nature’s magical puzzle in my hands,
and on more than one occasion I have held the precious delicacy
of a short-lived but exhilarating teacher of life
who has shown me, and who has tried to teach me,
that every fleeting moment is important-
as is the time you spend talking to and with family and friends.
Anything that you can share,
anything that you feel,
anything that you can hold and embrace tightly
can feel as great and as energizing as the light of the sun,
and as comforting as a hug.
The wonder of all life and infinite possibilities
can be seen and felt if you are lucky enough to see,
and if you are fortunate to be able to chase, catch, and hold,
a emanating and glowing lightning bug.
The colour of the fields of my home,
the colour of a four-leafed clover,
the colour of the clothes of a leprechaun,
the colour today on St. Patrick’s Day of the Chicago River,
the colour of luck,
the colour of nature,
the colour of the monster in someone’s envious look,
the colour of the screen text of a 1980’s computer,
the colour of the leaves of Summer trees,
the colour of the city in the Wizard of Oz,
the colour of an Apple martini,
the colour of some beer bottles,
the colour we think about when we think of a frog,
the colour of a Hairstreak butterfly,
the background colour of the sign
and the colour of the aprons that they wear at Starbucks,
the colour of ivy that climbs,
the colour of an emerald,
the colour of the aurora Australis,
the colour of choice for so many people today,
the one and only, the serene, green.
The stars above twinkle brilliantly
in the shimmering light of the Summer night,
the heat in the air, the closeness,
the stickiness, the dryness, the silence,
is like a blanket over everything,
but a cool breeze that feels as if it has magically
come out of nowhere makes everything feel
more like heaven then hell-
not too cold, not too warm: just right.
Well into the night, families, friends, people,
everyone is taking full-advantage of the great weather
and are out in their gardens enjoying themselves-
some people are drinking,
some people are just sitting there in the open-air,
some people are writing, some people are reading,
some people are trying to get a good night’s rest,
some people are listening to music-
this heat can make people do funny things,
things that until they surprise you
with something completely random that they do
you would never think they had it in them-
it’s like they’re under a spell.
It’s amazing to me how calm it is,
it’s phenomenal to me how beautiful the world looks
even in darkness,
it’s astonishing to me how much I and everything seems at ease,
it’s perfect to me how much people feel drawn together
to be together by something universally-natural and subconscious.
Lying on my bed, the insomnia from the heat of the night
soaks into me thoughts and makes me dream awake
of far-away tropical rain-forests, white sandy beaches,
and swimming in the cool revitalising ocean coast
of a lush isolated island somewhere,
and when I do dream the images that explode into life
and colour my imagination, my mind, my heart, and my soul,
make me sleep, wake, and live each day without a care in the world.
You can’t believe how much the sun makes people smile
when it is glowing high in the sky,
until you see the genuine expression of joy
on a thousand faces in close proximity.
You can’t believe how good and great the sun can make you feel,
until you are standing under a cloudless sky,
in a park, in a vast green field in the countryside,
or in your own freshly-mown and glorious-looking garden,
on a sunny day at the peak of British Summer Time,
looking up at the vapor-trails of a passenger jet passing above-
whose passengers within minutes will go beyond having land below them,
and instead will have the gift of seeing the sight
of a sparkling beautiful blue sea.
I follow a path of fallen white feathers on the ground.
I trace the flight of two white butterflies dancing through the air.
I walk for miles, I walk for hours-
soaking up the sunlight that touches me,
and taking in every detail of everything that I see.
Everyone wants to be out there.
Everyone wants to make the most of the wonderful warmth,
the terrific light, the chance to do what they have been planning to do
for a long time.
I wanted to spread my wings;
I wanted to be a catalyst;
I wanted to be a silent bell
that only those who were able to listen properly
could hear my chime.
I wanted to think;
I wanted to feel;
I wanted to forge a brand new link;
I wanted to do something I have never done-
like take a ride on a Ferris wheel.
I love this time of the year.
I love the scent of blossoming flowers.
I love the smell of a barbecue.
I love looking out at the ocean while standing at the end of a pier.
I love standing by a river near a waterfall, or a bubbling brook-
hearing it, and feeling enchanted by it,
as if it had some special rejuvenating powers.
I love the overload of all my senses that I feel
when something is brand new.
The instant that the sun touched the crown of my head this morning,
I immediately felt a jolt of electricity surge down my spine.
As soon as I took my first step into the bustling
and exciting world that was awaiting me,
I knew that this would be a phase in my life that I would always remember-
the height of British Summer Time.
What brightens your day when the sun isn’t shining?
Who makes you smile when they enter a room?
What lights up the night when clouds cover a full-moon?
Who holds your hand when you can’t stop yourself from crying?
It amazes me what some people remember in great detail, others forget-
like a cloud that passes over-head in the sky,
some people can rain down their own fears and insecurities
on people they don’t know,
and then move on without regret.
When we were children a hot, bright, and beautiful, summer’s day
felt like a life-time;
when we were children our innocence and our purity of spirit
allowed us to go wherever we wanted,
and to follow without question wherever our imagination took us;
when we were children we knew there was more to see
and to be found if we looked hard enough and if we climbed;
when we were children we didn’t carry around anything on our mind,
or our shoulders- in fact, we carried our heart on our sleeves
most of the time, when making friends and getting to know
other kids on the school bus.
Getting to know a new person and introducing them to your friends
is amazing to me;
learning that you share the same taste in art, music, films,
books, food, is thrilling and incredible-
that moment when you realize you are not alone,
and the joy that you get from something is not only mutual,
but also universal, as well-
that is epic, that is a true thing of beauty.
Something that makes you think is never a bad thing,
something that makes you feel something-
even if it is not what you think it is-
is always worthy of a song, or a poem, or a story, or a video
for others to listen to, read, or watch-
it shows that you are interesting.
There is something intimate about watching someone
bare the story of their life to a crowded room,
not really talking to anyone in particular,
or having anyone in mind,
but having something to say-
not everyone has this gift to be able to delight, inspire,
captivate, and enthrall,
not everyone has the belief in what they have to say,
or in themselves, not everyone has the nerve;
but when people listen, truly listen, take-in,
and are transformed by what they have heard,
it is like watching a seemingly insurmountable wall fall.
What we are all capable of in our short lives is phenomenal,
it is unknown, it is only limited by how much we dream,
by how passionate we are about what drives us,
by confining ourselves in the cell of time.
No one needs permission to make a masterpiece,
they just need to open their sole
and watch their light shine.
Icicles on bicycles, frozen spiderwebs on flowerbeds;
it’s spring now, but the snow just doesn’t want to go.
Children are enraptured in the joy of playing outside,
building snowmen, and having snowball fights;
eager travellers, who want to jet-off to warmer climates,
are checking-in at their airport arrivals desk
and finding out that their departure from winter England
may be delayed, or sadly one of the unfortunate “Cancelled Flights”.
The weather is the topic of almost every-other conversation-
some people are embracing it for pleasure,
some people are venturing out at the cost of their own lives,
some people are saying that they “have had enough”;
while other people make the most of the snow-
the way it falls like sprinkled sugar on a bowl of cereals,
the way it lies so beautifully on the ground,
the way it records the momentary paths of passersby,
animals, birds foraging for food-
some try to go as fast as they can,
while others just take it slow.
The wind blows the snow like dust;
the world looks like another planet;
on every window there is a thick white frost;
every pavement, every road, is covered so overwhelmingly,
and the snow is so compacted it is as hard granite.
People live in a perpetual ice-life everyday somewhere on Earth,
and they carry on regardless;
we here in the UK always say that we are prepared
for all weather eventualities,
but when weather like the cold-front
that has been visiting us recently, and testing out tolerance, comes,
we are always left dazed for days,
we always struggle to adapt-
some reach their peak, and some surpass their peak,
of being overcome with debilitating levels of stress.
I, on the other hand, take every step in my stride
and I treat every footprint in the snow
as if it were one small step on the moon.
I will always have great memories of my time growing up:
playing in the snow with my sister,
remembering my Dad taking my sister and me
for a sledge-ride to the shops near our home-
magical memories that take my breath away
and rise like hot air inside of a balloon.
The temperature is rising,
the sky is turning blue,
the snow is melting,
the wishes of millions are coming true.
The snow is returning to from whence it came;
people thinking about their commute to work tomorrow
breath a sigh of relief-
until the weather presenter on the TV says that
snow may fall again during the night,
and that “there may be a chance of some rain”.
Spring is here, Summer will arrive before we know it,
and I think I can safely say that the climate of Earth
and the seasons of nature are changing,
and we must all change, adapt, and be prepared for everything-
because, who knows what is waiting in the wings to arrive,
who knows what the winds of uncertainty will bring.
I am in love.
You are the only one that I think of.
I can’t believe I found you.
You don’t know what I have been through.
I saw perfection the moment that I followed your footsteps.
You live on the other side of a mirror,
but how I feel about you is what truly reflects.
I had to break my own heart in-two to let my love flower
so that I could show it to you.
You gave me something a long time ago,
but you never knew.
I am so lucky, blessed, alive,
because of what you gave me.
You made me believe in hope and goodness for the first time in a while-
you were like pure white moonlight on a dark sea.
I can’t forget the beauty of your smile,
I can’t deny the tender touch of your distant kiss upon my heart.
You are the inspiration, the paintbrush, and the colour, of my art.
I feel people moving away from me;
but you just keep getting closer,
you never go anywhere I cannot see.
I look at your face, I look into your eyes, and I become lost in you.
You look back at me, and the universe feels like
it has been reborn in my chest,
and I see everything that I love about life
in everything that you say and do.
I swear that I am staring at a dark-haired Angel
when I see the sunlight shine on you from behind,
making you look even more gorgeous as you glow.
You are all that I, or anyone, could ever wish for, or ever want.
You are incredible, you are stunning;
you are summer, you are star-light;
you are ocean-breeze, you are bliss.
I want only what is best for you.
I wish our voices didn’t have to carry so far to talk to each-other.
I thank the universe for bringing us together,
so that I could say I love you
and give you the gift of my Valentine’s kiss.
There is no other time of the year as energizing as right now,
there is no other season like Summer to take your breath away,
engulf you, and make you go wow!
There is no other time of your childhood
that you look back on more and reminisce,
there is no other feeling as comparable as that of Summer’s kiss.
The wind is sparing, the air is close-
the pavements are simmering with so much heat
you could almost make toast!
The streets are like greenhouses,
capturing and funneling the days heat between every building-
almost turning ponds into baths, and fountains into hot-springs.
No matter the heat,
no temperature can dwell the glee of the young!
The joyful cries of children playing in the street
is like the song of the sun, a rhyme for all-time,
that can only be heard from the lips of the innocents tongue.
The smells in the air are always exquisite-
from the aroma of a barbecue, to the scent of a floral perfume;
the taste of food is heightened-
from the strawberries that we eat,
to the ice cream that we consume.
Tennis is on TV, the music festivals are in full-swing
and attract and unite thousands en masse-
everyone wants to be part of the enthusiasm of the here and now,
because they know that it will be gone in a flash.
No British summer would ever be the same
if, along with the gorgeous sunshine,
we didn’t get a shower or two of the great British rain;
but after a long and sticky day
sometimes there can be nothing else more welcome,
and the distinctive smell in the air that follows
always invigorates and stops you from feeling glum.
Summertime is a glorious spell
that enchants me every year without fail, I have to confess-
never do I long for any other days
than for the warm and beautiful embraces of Summers magical caress.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 