Fern Spring


at the spring

the source

the fountain of youth….

but its dark

hard to see

whats around?

lanterns are needed…

ambassadors of light please hold space

he asks “is it safe”

I smilingly reply…

“oh yes, of course it is!”

“don’t be afraid…”

enjoy where you are,

you’ve made it this far!”


I am the Moon, dear

I am just like the moon, dear.

I am just like the stars, dear.

I am just like El Capitan reflecting in the moonlight.

I am just like the valley, dear,

opening up and embracing the changes of atmosphere.

I am just like the moon dear.

When I’m full the stars seem dim dear.

They really stay quite static dear.

Yet I move around the world dear.

I reflect with the sun light –

the glorious male energy.

I wax and wax until I’m full,

I slowly rise dear.

I illuminate in the night dear.

Then I wane and wane until I’m gone

only to start again dear.

I’m even seen in the daytime dear.

My time to reign is in the winter dear.

It’s my season more than the other dear.

Where I get to help shine,

to shed light during the sun’s absence,

in those colder months, which, are inevitable,

where warmth is needed dear.

That’s when you’ll see me most dear.

Look to me for solace, dear.

Revel in the feminine, emotional feelings dear.

Snuggle up and keep warm with a love dear.

‘Tis the season when I reign for this to happen dear.

I am like the moon dear.

The “off season” where we recoup dear.

When it’s time to learn other things dear.

To develop feelings and thoughts dear.

To express and create output dear.

I am like the moon dear.

In the winter months I’ll be your saviour dear.

Always dear.

Always near.

Always here.

“Placated People Who Play By the Rules”

thoughts of a lover swirl in my head

a migration of energy

uniting in a time and place

where my soul was nourished and fed

just for a moment

a savory introduction

attachments, attachments whatever do they mean?

the stated mores of this reality…

a brilliant connection that can never be seen

dancing around in my head like a dream…

the smells of the flowers

the gentle loving touch of a hand

being led through the thicket

by a soul in the form of a beautiful man

a sharing that was pure

not one of “placated people who play by the rules”

i had to get away

so perhaps i am one of those fools

the memory stays with me

as it always will with you…

Back in the Valley 2

my shoulders tighten
my back aches
my nose becomes congested
in the thick air of conservatism
of sheltered rural life
i can and do play the part
but its not my natural truth
i’m close…
i respectfully walk
i slowly speak…
painting the view of another way
i’ve left this place
smelt other lands
felt air abroad
hugged and kissed the spectrum
danced under foreign skies
laughed out loud, until i cried
but we’re all the same
so if i feel this they do too…
if they feel this i do too..
in some way
in some fashion
waiting to be set free
wanting to fly

Back in the Valley

back in the valley
venturing down from the mountains
and away from the ocean
its all so close
yet it is still a valley, a bubble
the darkness reigns unintentionally
be sure to wear your Sunday best
pain on your mask
and join the congregation
its what you do
no harm, the don’t know any different
they all just need love too
so fit in enough…
then slowly but surely
help them see with love…
by just being who i am
who you are
who they are
who we are