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Love and comfort


                 My sea grass hat.

Beneath the brim of a sea grass hat,

I hid from the draining Maltese rays,

My toes on holiday in the Med,

A turning point in many ways,

I discovered an island I was to love,

Away from the style of living I knew,

Yet my love was an island, barren and cold,

Slowly disappearing from my view,

With every day of blissful sun,

The cracks appeared in our façade,

Never to be repaired again,

This page of history forever scarred,

Beneath the brim of a sea grass hat,

I watched my lover sail far away,

Upon a sea of discontent,

Now all alone I bide this day,

With memories of the glaring sun,

A loveless time in paradise,

Though a lovely holiday for my feet,

The outcome sadly was not so nice,

I love Malta with all my heart,

I will return for some more of that,

With a real love upon my arm,

To view from the brim of a sea grass hat,

© Paul Osborne 2006

That poem was written at the end of my marriage, and although it is a sad poem in many respects I like it, because it conveys just how I was feeling at that time, The following piece by contrast was written for a young friend who came to a party dressed as a dark angel and asked if I would write a poem for her.

            Dark angel

She appeared from the shadows,

That sultry dark angel,

Moving through the swaying crowd,

Her satin wings black as sin,

“Come dance with me” She purred,

Her sensual rhythm drove my soul,

“ Come dance with me” She urged,

Hypnotic pulsing filled the air,

“I am the angel of death” She proclaimed,

Yet her eyes shone like crystal,

Drawing me deeper to her need,

Another victim to devour whole,

Her scent ran through my blood,

Until I swayed to her erotic beat,

The gentle throb of the heated night,

Drove our dance across the floor,

A vixen of such dark desire,

She left me wasted to the night,

Slipping from my eager view,

As the dawn crept into my darkness,

This dark angel had captured my soul,

© Paul Osborne 2006



      To hear your voice

I trembled at the ring tone,

What if this is a mistake,

A folly of my own making,

A dream whilst still awake,

I heard your velvet answer,

Uncertain of what might come,

I made a witty opening,

Though my mind is going numb,

I recognised you instantly,

My soul mate from afar,

Delighted in the closeness,

Knowing exactly where you are,

You told me of the curtains,

Open to the sacred night,

As you’ve described a hundred times,

So I see them in my sight,

Your words they wrapped around me,

Fitting like I knew they


As you whispered to your midnight,

We echoed to the ancient wood,

Briefly I was with you there,

Bathed in all we’ve ever shared,

At last we breathed for each other,

All the emotions we have bared,

The line died without warning,

Leaving us complete, yet also alone,

I treasure the fleeting moments,

When I held you on the phone,

© Paul Osborne 2006


The next poem was a challenge piece from Poetry Castle, we had to use the keywords given, and the premise was for a romantic write. These challenges are very good fun and can extend your poetic range, because they force you to use words you might not normally consider

                In Spinney wood

That Summer, how I recall the laughter,

As hand in hand we walked in showers,

Our bright umbrella, our sanctuary,

Our Tryst consumed the twilight hours,

We walked as one through spinney wood,

Your hair like molten chocolate fell,

The leather jacket, your collar turned,

The denim clung to curve and swell,

The charcoal night descended low,

Wrapped like tendrils to our heat,

Dappled moonlight altered tone,

We laid on mossy thatch complete,

The oaken voyeurs watched in silence,

With withered arms they held back the night,

While we painted in tender colours,

Upon a pallet, verdant and bright,

Time it faded in swathes of smoke,

Our lips the only gentle sound,

As shadows kept our secrets safe,

Cast by moonlight on the ground,

Walking back to the waiting world,

Fingertips in warmth-embraced,

We cherished then our love eternal,

Certain it could not be replaced.


© Paul Osborne 2007