Rising Shoots And Falling Stars :: Love Caught in the Crossfire

That we should be so lucky as to dream. To believe in the power of suggestion. Aware that the brightly lit seconds can easily disappear. Aware that the depth and detail will become impossible to recall, so soon as the daylight is upon us.

I wake in many different beds. Such is the life of the travelling working man. It is though my home bed where the dream space is most fruitful. A sense that the visitations want to find me settled, or a sense that they wish to try to disrupt me.

Somewhere between and among these real and imaginary habitats I find places to write. The poetry collects the moods of the buildings, the environment, the community, the inner self. The organisational mind runs off to scramble as much as it is able to recollect, or invent.

As I begin the review of these poems, written in early 2012 I hope that the words above ring true, for both you and for me also.

I thought that I noticed myself becoming a little philosophical and could even be accused of navel gazing. I  couldn't argue with either of those points of view, though I hope it doesn't displease you too too much.

Rising Shoots And Falling Stars - Love Caught In The Crossfire 2016

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