We choose between sadnesses,
Sliding softly between the sheets;
Alone again and forever,
With you beside me as always.
I write an elegy for patience.
Yours, and mine. Waiting
For different trains
On the same track, at the same time,
And the same station.
So much in common;
But without hope.
© 2010 Matthew Rhodes
Like a tree waiting for Spring,
I long for you.
Like the world greeting the dawn;
Like a cloud gathering rain,
I long for you.
Like a ship willing the tide;
Like a kite reaching for wind;
Like a song calling for words,
I long for you.
Like a heart waiting to break;
Like a cat waiting to pounce;
Like her prey sensing its fate,
I long for you.
Like a canvas without paint;
Like a flame seeking tinder,
I long for you.
Like a needle without thread,
I long for you.
Just you.
Now.
© 2010 Matthew Rhodes
Shadows long on the table –
Winter sun warms your hand.
I think of winters past,
In the snow.
Snow bright against the trees –
Squirrel runs for the hedge.
My mind follows its tracks,
In the snow.
So still and clear, orange leaves –
Framed outside my window.
Like Japanese woodcuts,
In the snow.
Grass tips through ice, caught, and
Waiting for snowmelt; they
Mirror my heart – trapped, now,
In the snow.
© 2010 Matthew Rhodes
Autumn light on leaves.
Golden, like the ring on my finger,
And just as magical.
It was so windy last night,
with rain.
The ring slipped off again,
And again. Rain battered. It’s cold.
And miserable. Outside,
But inside feeling warmer
It’s not so bad.
Imagination bridges in and out;
Past and future;
Me and all of you.
And cannot be trusted:
Magic – like the ring on my finger.
Except it’s gone now.
© 2010 Matthew Rhodes
Soft, soft, my love;
warm, warm, your heart;
long, long, the road,
while we are apart.
Slow, slow, days flow,
hard, hard, each task;
far, far, your arms,
no more do I ask.
Soon, soon, I yearn,
closer still to be;
stay, stay, my love,
for all eternity.
© 2011 Matthew Rhodes
I wrote this poem when I felt I might be in love a while ago. It was her favourite. I just found it again and felt like publishing it. Eternity wasn’t quite achievable in the event, but I’m still glad we met.
I worried
that if I kissed you
the world might dissolve,
and my heart melt; all logic lost.
I felt a thousand flowing butterflies might rise,
set fire to common sense.
Some would float, others flit – pause;
might spread their wings,
absorb your light;
might soar in the sun –
enjoy new feelings of being
so alive
and yet so sensitive to you,
like the sun,
giving them light and life.
And when you’re gone,
or merely obscured by cloud,
they would vanish;
leaving only the holes they’d burned:
perceptions of beauty, joy, connected hearts;
feelings I might not have known.
And this might hurt too much.
I worried,
that if I kissed you,
all this might happen.
But oh,
I did.
Please kiss me again.
© 2011 Matthew Rhodes
poetry diary 