The Poetry Page

When Hope begins to Fade

I write these words upon a train
bound for where I just don't know
like the road we walked upon
no idea where it would go
we followed on together then
lost ourselves as the road it frayed
you cannot judge your destiny
when hope begins to fade.

Past train wrecks on the northern line
into the autumn sky I stare
as sunlight fades into the night
I find her looking at me there
her eyes are wet, she calls my name
so lonely and afraid
You see these things from time to time
when hope begins to fade.

I close my eyes, I'm taken back
her walking next to me
I feel her hand reach out for mine
we're lost beside by the sea
I hear the waves upon the shore
wash the tracks we made
You feel her presence with every breath
when hope begins to fade.

Those words she spoke that meant so much
come back just like a ghost
you hear them ringing in your head
the words that hurt you most
what was to last forevermore
leaves you asking why
You search for answers all the time
when hope begins to die

You picture her as she moves on
a life without you there
you wonder does she think of you
you wonder does she care
you feel the bottle in your hands
and wish that she had stayed
You drink way more that your fair share
when hope begins to fade.

Evening calls in drones to you
those nights of broken sleep
you dream of her as if awake
the memories that you'll keep
they'll haunt you through your waking hours
on to the bed you made
you toss and turn with dreams of her
when hope begins to fade.

My eyes are wide I hear the sound
the train pulls to a stop
the screeching cry of steel on steel
echoes through the block
I walk the streets and I embrace
the decision that I made
to drift alone forever more
while hope begins to fade.

Last Night Together

The scent of Jasmine filled the air
as springtime caught my eyes
felt something deep in me
I could not describe
like the stillness and the smell of rain
as the thunder cracks like leather
what we gonna do
on our last night together?

The clouds above sent me down
to a shelter where as a child
I'd go and stay alone
in the darkness deep and wild
while the lightning struck and the rain fell down
sheltered from the weather
what we gonna do
on our last night together?

The road was long that brought me here
and took me far from her
the same dark road we travelled on
wondering where we were
I followed through to the journey's end
thinking of forever
what we gonna do
on our last night together?

Last night I dreamed of the end of the world
sheets of lightning in a sky of grey
nowhere to run nowhere to hide
'cept in the darkness of the day
past the wreckage of suburban lines
and the buildings on the avenue.
I ran blinded through the city streets
with the thought of losing you.

The rain fell hard on the cold steel roof
and brought me back once more
to a time I thought would never end
like waves upon the shore
but the rivers change like the ocean tide
and nothing lasts forever
what we gonna do
on our last night together?

 

The Busker

The harbour lights were shining bright
as the ferry left the quay.
The air was thick and misty white -
it was raining out at sea.
I heard the sound of a violin
somewhere beyond the light
and I walked towards the distant song
in the shadows of the night.

There by a wall a busker stood,
there was no one around.
He stood alone with bow and wood,
a cane lay on the ground.
I sat and watched him in the dark
though I could hardly see.
I listened to the tunes he played as
I lay my swag beside me.

I'd never felt so warm before
yet cold beneath the sky,
In the misty air I closed my eyes
and imagined I could fly.
I circled wide, my spirit free,
the shackles far below.
It did not seem to matter then,
I had nowhere to go.

And the busker was within the dark
a single shining light
where hopes and dreams are forever lost
in this city's darkest night
Where lives are long forgotten and
dreams are seldom blessed
Where the longest road has ended
and memories laid to rest.

The airt felt damp upon my face
in the passing of the night.
I walked alone through shades of grey
in the early morning light.
Past aging piers and broken gates
of lead and rusted wire
and old tin cans and bottles burnt
in the ashes of a fire.

And I sat upon a wooden bench
as rain clouds filled the sky.
I watched a pigeon at my feet
and I wished that I could fly.

 

South Wind

At night the sky turns dark out here
the weather cold, the air is clear.
I close my eyes - a final sacred sight.
The nights alive in lonesome sound
and I've walked so far on this tired ground
where the south wind blows and
haunts me in the night.

The morning light shines into my face
and I disappear within its grace,
still I fear the world I moved upon.
The day draws near and lures me back
though I cannot turn upon this track,
I hear a tune. A soft, slow mournful song.

The road is long, dark and rare
and I find myself within its care,
into an unknown light I am bound.
My youth long gone repeats itself
and one last time I feel its wealth.
The darkness calls -
a soft slow mournful sound.

 

The Picnic

My dad and my mother, my sister and I
sat by the bridge for a while.
The cars drove past as we sat down
beside the bridge in style.

My ma, she looked down at the water
and saw her reflection there
and seemed to cry for just a while
but smiled as she brushed her blonde hair.

We packed a lunch just for the day
we had turkey and ham and bread.
My Dad and my Mum then went for a walk
after us kids had been fed.

They watched the clouds blow over
and forgot about work for the day
where Dad sorts the mail for Australia Post
and Mum, she takes care of the pay.

My sister and I went for a swim,
there were boats by the water side.
Then we saw a beautiful swan swimming by
and I laughed so much that I cried.

We watched the red sun setting
behind the hills so green.
It reminded me of Christmas day.
It was the best thing that I'd ever seen.