I am not chained to shore
but floating free on your surface,
tethered by your tide,
the sun licking my face,
the salt buoying me up
with the swell of your laughter.

I am a gull
hanging on your thermals,
high as a kite.
I am dissolving in you today
and will go which way
your wind blows.

I am clean with you,
stripped to bone and soul,
dripping with your delight.
You are so full
I might burst.

Lick me earthbound,
snuggle me soft as a puppy
asleep on your milk.


The sunlight falls,
flickers off leaves and fronds
of fern,
weaves patterns in the hedgerows
that guard the garden,
tumbles and teases the edges of shade,
the glade alight with it,
hugging the watching trees
that are icons,
the grass between a prayer mat.
I sit and soak in the sun


Lilac season
and spring unfurls
its green fist,
scatters daisies
in the empty grass.

Breaking on the stones

It is the night
before Easter,
the night
of the waiting day.

Wet weather

The rain
has taken my garden,
folding it soft and wet
into grey arms
and closing me out.