I See With My Heart

I see a saucer of milk
skimming the treetops,
I see over a dozen twin droplets
shaken from a pair of whiskers
and my heart

I see the icicle stars
diamanté paw prints
padding across the whole sky,
I see a half-smile
soon to be a grin
and I swear I see the moon slumping
heaving a contented sigh.

I see with my heart
as well as my eyes,
maybe that’s why
tonight of all nights
the earth seems so very

if only my tongue were long enough
to drink every last sight up,
and if only I were tall enough
to reach out and give the world
a hug.



I stare, awe-struck
wondering if you can hear
my trembling heartbeat
beating faster and faster in my chest,

I dare not
breathe you in all at once
for I fear if I drink you up now
there won’t be any of you left tomorrow. . .

Looking at you
is like viewing the world
in black and white;

opulent white
instead of a trembling blue
husky grey
instead of a raw green,

making a patchwork map
you are the earth
in monochrome.

When I hold up my hand
and spread my palm wide
you fit snugly
in the centre

like a coin
a ten pence piece
which has been flipped
and landed, seemingly random
but almost perfectly so.

You are the reason
people get cricked necks,
you lift the head
as hope lifts the soul,

your craters and dents
like ribs on a skeleton
your sleek flesh stretched across
to within an inch of their lives.

Your heart sends a beam
out amongst the stars,

it’s the light
at the end of the tunnel,
the breath of relief
in the mournful, winter nights,

you are the stopper
to our eternal sighs,
may one day you burst forth
and flood the whole skies.