Like Medusa you look at me.
Changable eyes of every shade of grey
Turn from cynical self-deprecation
To cutting steel, glittering a warning.
And like Perseus without a shield
I feel myself grow brittle,
Cracks creeping up my spine,
Branching out across my back.
Almost an afterthought,
That polished shield.
I see my own grey abstractions there,
The long shadow I can cast.
Now I feel you close behind me,
Your snakes hissing in my ear.
I slowly raise my eyes to yours –
You see yourself in mine.
And slowly your bent head
Settles on my shoulder.
Like golden ornaments your snakes
Curl around my hand in your hair…
February 2019, copyright jsmorgane
The Love of Trees
Trees are content, without questioning their purpose.
They love the ground beneath them
And spread their roots deep into the receiving soil.
They stretch their arms wide
In loving welcome to the open sky.
They turn to the sun,
Growing towards the light.
With you, I love like a tree:
Facing the light, I grow towards you.
Arms wide open I welcome you.
Deeply rooted I rest in you.
©jsmorgane Aug 2018
Friendships are like plays.
In some scenes you have most of the lines.
In some scenes you don’t have any at all.
Sometimes you wait in the wings for your next entry,
Then again you might wait backstage for the curtain call.
At other times, your part is done only a few minutes in.
Often when I go home after the first half, I wonder
What would happen if I started to extemporise.
© jsmorgane (Jan 2016)