Into mysteries we both crave

Photo by Kourosh-Gaffari-Unsplash

Your eyes are pools I’ve gazed into,
your smile as warm as sunshine,
I’ve walked the track where you have been,
in different moods and fun time.

Mirrors of light shades of dark,
sparks of recognition,
kindle knowledge yet untold,
life put on full ignition.

Deep souls stir and come alive,
thoughts rustle and wave,
click the switch to overdrive,
into mysteries we both crave.

Pure delight colours the day,
along dusty tracks untrodden,
words unused, what will they say,
of times almost forgotten.

The affinity melds kindred souls, clouds kissed with richer colour, succulence fills up our bowls, unlike…


A poem of hereditary

(Source)

Tide and time perform a mime,
as waves splash on the shore,
covering up the footprints,
of those that came before.

In the morn the pristine beach,
is left smooth and glistening,
the murmurs of the ocean winds,
and shore fringes are listening.

To voices from another time,
passed down through generations,
some stories blown on the breeze,
communicated in vibrations.

I hear your voice from long ago,
synchronicity and sixth sense,
gather fragments of information,
in past and future tense.

The footsteps that you left behind, mark places where you walked, and now the whispers in the trees, are…


Changing seasons

Photo by Cecile Hournau on Unsplash

In leafy glades the summer shades
turn from green to gold
the river mist has been kissed
by the first autumn cold.

Curtains are drawn earlier
evening comes so soon
stars sparkle clear as diamonds
and make rings round the moon.

An extra layer on my bed
and much later sunrise
muted colours in the garden
and beautiful butterflies.

A feeling of contentment
and enjoyable quietude
an open fire a book to read
a peaceful interlude.

I quietly draw the curtains
and bunk down for the night
the outside sounds are muted
and nighttime out of sight.

Far out in…


Free from inhibition

Photo by Saad Chaudhry on Unsplash

Free from inhibition
Unshackled from all care
No tethers left to hold me
I’m walking on thin air.

Adrift on translucent waters
Floating far away from shore
In suspended animation
With no cares anymore.

Connected to the elements
And blown by the breeze
Staying in the moment
And letting all time freeze.

Captured in a photograph
A memory etched in stone
Caught in a split second
In a stilled sepia tone.

Free of masks and disguises
And tasks that tie me down
Shedding off ties that bind
Donned in a magic gown.

Transformed into one Only seen in a dream…


I know it to be true

Photo by Dorothea OLDANI on Unsplash

It may sound like contradiction
But I know it to be true
That charismatic quietness
Can appear out of the blue.

Beguiling and attractive
And as quiet as fallen snow
A divinity of feeling
Remarkably on show.

Charming and fascinating
Strong in character too
Appealing and alluring
An answer to a clue.

Allured by magnetism
In captivating quietness
A charismatic movement
Stilled into utter silence.

Lost by words of beauty
And divine inspiration
Not daring to move
Or change the magic potion.

Is it an enigma
Or sacred revelation
The charismatic quietness
Heard in silent ovation.

Or is it the…


Each wave another whim

Photo by Keaten Chancellor on Unsplash

Some changes in the weather
Happens in a subtle way
Waves weave along the seashore
And evaporate to spray.

Some tumble some are steep
Others wash over my head
I bob and weave and take a breath
As some curl and splash instead.

I soak the sea up like a sponge
When on my morning swim
There’s parallel perception
Each wave another whim.

Adaptation is a measure
I call on constantly
To move just like the ocean
And attune instantly.

Swimming is a rhythm
A horizontal dance
Massaging of the waters
In a metaphoric trance.

I swim my way to liberty
A clearing of the mind
Like a ritual washing
And leave the grime behind.

It’s like a new beginning
The way I start each day
Adapting to the elements
When I go out to play.

©

David Rudder
17th April 2021

Thanks for reading.


I fly so high up in the sky

Photo by author

I move in moods of wing and flight
And flit from here to there
I fly on the wings of a bird
Here, there and everywhere.

And when I’m done, I catch the sun
My feathers catch the glow
And wrap the warmth around me
In ways few will ever know.

I learnt to fly and to cry
And ways to use my voice
To chirp and cheep, trill and tweet
In a language of my choice.

From tree to tree I travel And wing and sing my way And as I fly, I soon espy A bug of choice…


Fish are on the run

Photo by Juan Ignacio Escobar Tosi on Unsplash

A kaleidoscope of colour
Refracted by the sun
Pierces through clear waters
Silver fish are on the run.

They dart and fly towards the sky
The deadly chase is on
Herded for the dolphin’s food
In a split second they are gone.

As I swim the spectacle
Appears before my eyes
A split moment of madness
The fish they call small fry.

Underneath the surface
Far beyond my sight
The race is on it never ends
Each day and through the night.

Hunting is their habit The way they stay alive The series of the food chain Determines which fish…

David Rudder

I enjoy exploring my mind by being a diarist and writing a daily poem to reflect my thoughts…

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