Come To Me In Silence

- Come to me in Silence-

I love when you come to me in silence;
Though all the birds come with you,
to shower down a rainbow of sound,
with each kiss of opalescent hue;
A rhapsody of lark song breaking through the veil,
as I awaken to your tenderness,
your lips, a shower of feathering bliss.
How strange the absence,
when the last silent wing has flown,
your soft hair, departed from the pillow,
there, where I lay my hand,
between the crook and the hollow,
your resonant warmth summoning me still.
I awoke and looked for a moment through the window,
the last ray of summer, dashing through the cloud,
wondering whether winters cold fingers would be so proud,
or huddled in a mass of softened skin,
would this rainbow still shine,
in the crystal breath of January's frosted pane.
How blessed this kiss, that melts the frozen heart,
A shower of gentle rain,
the dappled iridescence of loves bright rainbow,
born again.

© Richard Michael Parker 2013

The End Of The World

The End Of The World

You ran so fast,
I scarcely saw the footfall,
as you sped in desperation into the past.
A declaration, the spearhead buried deep.
How quickly the numbed silence creeps,
when all those echoed ghosts scream for recognition.
A transgression of affirmation, fear that grips the heart.
There is no way to grow in the dark.
Dreams, they always seem so real when your asleep,
but when the dawn creeps from out that crepuscular light,
the fright of loves awakening, terror of the breaking,
screams into the frightened hallways of the cosseted life.
I saw the comet rise, It was dawn,
and in those nascent skies it climbed so willingly,
as if it's arc would tear a hole in heaven,
but just as the singeing light ascended,
It bent, and down into the sodden earth,
the marshland of rot and damp decay it went.
I turned to you, as you sat beside me in that light,
and in fright I saw your face,
yawning like the chasm that invades this place,
'We're fucked' yes!... that's what I said,
and yet, no fear invaded me there,
Only resignation, as I held your hand,
waiting for the fireball to swamp us in this land.
We sat and watched the eastern horizon burn,
and turned, squeezing each others hands,
as if the end had come.
But it didn't end.
Instead, in quietude, the fire burnt in the distance,
as if the past was being consumed in some wrathful judgement.
It didn't end. So we just sat there, marvelling in the glory.
Thinking this was the final chapter of our story,
Thinking how beautiful it was, in that moment of resignation,
to be sat beside someone we loved at the end of the world.
But it didn't end, and all we did, was awaken.

© Richard Michael Parker 2013

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