Observations of The Urban Spaceman

Adventurous summer holidays, a time of make-believe. When every hidey-hole was a fort and monsters lived in trees.

The siren swam beneath the sea, singing her song without a care, for under wave her life was free— her life was free, but cold and bare.

Plucked from their patches hollowed, cut, and brought to life wickedly they scheme.

Strong and stronger as the evenings grow shorter the shadows, longer.

Yellow, red and gold, mulchy, slippery and cold, fiery ice on tarmac.

Gone is the freshness of warm summer rain, Gone are the words which brought me to shame. Gone are the birds, aloft in the sky, Gone are the flowers, which in fields lie.

Fluffy Easter chicks (slightly aged). Three for five dollars— going cheep.

The darkness swells around you It fills your heart and mind Beneath your skin, you burn with fever Stung by words unkind You try to rise above it all To take the...

If I could have a superpower A power of any kind Without a doubt, I think I'd pick The power to read your mind

  The gentle beating of her heart is a balm to my soul’s aches. I burn inside when we’re apart, a thirst that’s never slaked. She shies so softly from my...