DOVES 111
I will live alone somewhere,
maybe out at sea.
Far away from smog and whirring sounds
tarmac and stiletto heels.
I will have a garden filled with cockle shells,
and hanging from the branches of the sycamore tree
bells will chime as breezes breeze,
until the wind blows a storm over head.
I will shelter inside the wooden hut,
held together with bamboo
and mats of flaxen hair, spun from strands
that malt within sleep.
And you may visit, three, four times a year
And we will lie under a huge star ridden sky
and tell each other stories,
to amaze and thrill our souls
And we may dance, through our darkness,
as we allow feelings to rise and fall,
as waves do, along the shoreline.
CATCH
When I dance I fly
When I sway I may
and that's when the beat
hits the street
Drum finds the hum
stamps outside in
One tune,
two tunes, three, four
Feet claim the floor
as space widens embrace of place
I am as wide
As I am within
Front loop back stoop
pull back, wine goes down
No pills
as pressure builds to champagne
pop bubbles spills
Base down, sleep
Soul tone can and no can,
belly honed and grown
Off track along the underside
Light up
languish down the gown
chorus round the beat
Aye dye the cloth and sun the shine
No me, no more
send it out
over the dance plane wood floor
I sense you in me,
I find you
inside the honey tree
Hive high hidden from views,
pass buy no more things
Bling bling
Diamond bubble of waterfall
undercurrent of all that sings