Poetry Series
Mark Reed
- poems -
2
A Letter to my Special One
2 weeks it has been since last we were together.
I can still remember that final night, the night that was our last.
It was in your room that we spoke, for another reason I was there.
I can still remember your soft silken hair, your full luscious lips and that incredible hug
that told me I was loved.
It is something I have held with me ever since.
Another month we are to be parted, a child’s birthday the reason.
Strain it was for me when first we were apart, at my lowest I asked you, “If I
were to say I love you would you believe me? ”
Yes you Goose was your response, it was the response I so desperately needed.
In the street beside my car our final embrace was, forbidden I was to cry, but the tears
they came anyway.
Your final words to me were.
“We are Cats and Cats bounce back.”
And so it is as I write knowing your love for me is as strong as ever that I have found
the ability to go on.
It is by the Chinese Zodiac that we’ve found we are both Cats.
We are Stubborn, We are Solitary and we care for and protect those around us.
My longing for your return is still there, as strong as the day we parted.
Await I do for your eventual return, when into your arms I will know I am loved, and
on your lips that I am special.
So until then my sweet keep spreading the love that surrounds you and which you are
all too willing to share, for I have found the strength to carry on, I have indeed
bounced back.
So do not worry about me, I am alright.
I now await that special day when into my arms you once again will be.
For my heart it has been damaged, I do believe yours has been to, may your love for
me and mine for you be the thing that mends that damaged part of our hearts, when
together they will be joined.
And if again we are to be parted, let us remember this time apart.
So the longing will not be as painful, and the time apart not so long, for we will know
that, although away from our special person there is someone who loves us, and will
be there when we return.
Mark Reed
3
A Poem for Darcy
It was a day like any other, her first day of school that was to mark her last day on
Earth, for a tragedy was about to occur, the type of which would shock the state and
bring ordinary people to their knees.
Excited she was as she joined her brothers for that trip that was to be taken across the
biggest bridge in the state which stood between them and the school she so longed to
attend this day.
A beautiful little blonde girl she was, the apple of her mother’s eye.
But tragedy was to befall that family as they crossed that 1 Kilometre Bridge.
For a breakdown was to happen in the way her father thought, because into the
emergency lane he stopped and removing that beautiful little blonde girl from her seat
he took her and plunged her to her death.
Over the guard rail he held her and for whatever reason, let her go.
Emergency services from all around rushed to the scene when they heard a little girl
had been hurled from that bridge and try as they might their effort was in vain.
It will never be clear the events of that tragic day, but to a jail cell her father now
heads.
But no human imposed sentence will lighten the life sentence he has imposed upon
himself or of the family of that precious little blonde girl whose name is Darcy.
Mark Reed
4
A Womens Lament
I scan the newspaper,
Looking for news of where my loved one might be.
The telegram officer or a special War Department letter is not what
I want or need right now.
Many years it has been since I was last in the
arms of my loving Soldier.
Comfort I offer to friends when news returns
Of the death of there loved one,
They have served their country as an active Soldier,
Airmen or Sailor and now they lie miles from their loved ones.
Each day we hear about another glorious victory
With the loss of yet more lives.
Is my loving soldier one of them?
Soon will I receive that dreaded news?
Sunday afternoon and I take my young son & daughter to play in
the local park.
Men & Women in different coloured uniforms pass us
They smile when they see my 2 delightful children playing in blissful
denial.
A uniformed man carrying a bag approaches us.
“Daddy”, I hear my children call out.
Who is this man they are calling daddy?
Closer he gets, more in focus his face becomes.
Stunned I look at this uniformed man.
My man has come home.
Excited, my children run to him and he gathers them into his arms.
I want to go to him, but my feet are locked to the ground.
He approaches me; the beautiful face of my loving soldier now stands before me.
His arms envelope me, and his kiss is a kiss I thought I would never experience again.
Many years has it been since we last laid together in our bed.
I see worry and terror in my loved ones eyes.
What has happened to him?
What has he seen in that dreadful place that he has been?
My husband has returned to me, but a broken man he has become.
Never will I know the horrors that he has faced.
With time and patience the man I saw leaving,
heading for the great adventure will one day return to me.
There is anger amongst those who have lost their loved ones.
Why should my man come home and their’s not.
I try to offer console & solace but my attempts are refused.
“I was with your husband, he died a hero”
My husband trying to give comfort says to these broken women.
5
Why was there a war?
Why did our loved ones risk their lives, and the lives of there enemies?
A straight answer we will never receive,
We will only hear that they sacrificed themselves for the
greater good by politicians who lie in bombproof shelters.
Years have passed and my grown children now go off to war.
One as a Soldier, the other a Nurse.
What will happen to my children?
What horrors will they see?
I hope & pray for my 2 dear ones, the ones who will stand beside them
As well as those who stand against them.
When will this war, this killing ever stop.
Mark Reed
6
Love
What a wondrous and glorious thing is this thing we call love.
To know another loves you gives you strengths and gifts that money can’t buy.
To Hold your Loved one, the Kiss your Loved one, to Make Love to your Loved one will
fill you with such awe that it will leave you feeling empty when apart you find
yourselves.
To know you are loved makes you feel so wonderful and so complete.
How many times when you are apart do you think or dream of the one you truly love,
this feeling will always leave you with a mysterious smile that nobody else will ever
understand.
Never be afraid to love the one you love.
Never take them for granted, or abuse them, for it will not be love that you have
shared it will be control and no relationship will ever last like this.
Mark Reed
7
My Secret Love
Morning arises and I think of the beauty that is to join me on my travels this day.
A trip to the mountains has been planned and together we prepare.
I walk out from my house and to the place my beauty lies.
Sliding open the door and there she is, a beauty of metal & of chrome, of wide tyres
and a big comfy seat.
I wheel her out from her confines and prepare her for the day ahead.
With a whir she starts up and sits there idling as I don the gear for the trip.
As I stand there sliding my jacket over my back, my boots on my legs, and my helmet
over my head, I can’t help but notice the morning sun that is shining off her polished
chrome
Its shine not unlike that that you get from a beautiful woman’s hair.
I walk over to her and straddle my majestic beast, she slides between my legs like the
beautiful body of a woman and we head out to the great beyond.
What a magic day it is for riding, fine perfect weather, long winding mountain roads
and cars that have the courtesy to move aside as I come riding past.
Low into corners do we lean, her tyres gripping to the clinging road, envy can be seen
in the faces of those who drive by for they can only dream of knowing the exhilaration
& freedom one only get when on 2 wheels you soare.
What an absolutely magic feeling it is to be one with your bike as you ride along
enjoying all the things those in cars will never experience.
It is said you enjoy the wind in your hair when riding a bike, but how can that be when
your head is encased in a protective cocoon of fibreglass with a tinted visor of plastic
that both blocks out the harsh menacing sun and menaces stupid annoying car drivers
who dare to get close, or who think they can keep up with you.
Higher into the mountains we now head, low clouds now envelopes all who travel this
road this day, a fine mist of water now covers the road the bike and me as steadily I
negotiate the tight winding bends.
A feeling like hands griping me can now be felt while on this wet road I continue to
ride, for neither me nor my beloved bike wishes to come crashing down to the ground
below causing damage to us both.
Out of the cloud we now head as we descend back down the other side.
A yellow warning sign now warns of tight hairpin turns ahead, no problem it is for my
love and me as we slow, lean, and scrap her footpegs along the road.
What an absolute feeling of euphoria I get when out of the corner I straighten; the
feeling of her power through her back wheel now powers me down the tight descending
road leaves me with a feeling of if I died at this moment I would die with a smile on my
face having enjoyed the ultimate sense of absolute freedom.
Finally with the last rays of light leaving us for the day we return home, rolling down
the driveway I roll her into the workshop and remember all that we encountered this
day.
Mark Reed
8
My Sweet Girl
My girl she is sweet
My girl a delight.
From the tip of her waist length hair
To the softness of her firm incredible lips.
And not to mention the fullness of her soft, full, gorgeous breasts
A same sex relationship is what we have
Never before have I been as happy.
It was at a cafe that we met.
Samantha saving me when my world
Was crashing down around me.
She showed me a world I never knew possible
A world of unending, undying love.
To love the same as mine is something I have never sought
But it seems it sought me.
Never before have I been as happy.
And now as I wake, my sweet Samantha lying peacefully beside me
I know that I am saved.
Saved from a world of unending misery.
Of Sex & Drugs and their unending demands.
It was after another painful break-up
With yet another man that I met this girl that was to change it all.
I was at that nightclub wearing my sexiest black attire when I saw this gorgeous girl
walk right up to me.
“What’s the matter my dear, you are all alone looking sad.”
Samantha said as she stood before me.
She took my hand in her as those gentle words she did speak.
To this stranger I told of my life and pity she did have for me.
So now I am saved, now am I true.
True to the me that was screaming out to be.
Mark Reed
9
My Sweet Lass
To the beautiful girl who hugged me,
Your body it is gone,
Gone to a place of Learning,
Gone to the Great Beyond.
Your absence it is painful,
But to a better place you’ve gone,
Gone to a place of Learning.
Gone to the Great Beyond.
Changes you have made in the way that you do think.
A positive attitude I have had upon your life.
Longing now I do have for the one that did hug me.
For my heart is that you’ve captured, and never to set free.
Now my sweet our love is pure.
My sweet our love is clean.
And with it I remember all that you have given to me.
So fear not my lovely for I am standing true.
For now the demon’s they have left me.
And I am standing true.
Your return is that I seek,
As I know it is for you.
And again we will be together.
Together our love be true.
Mark Reed
10
One More Week
A week it is, one more for the wait.
The distance in time it has been short
But far too long has it been for the friends who are apart.
For them it has seemed like an eternity.
Weekly telephone calls tell tales both strange & true.
Of love they share over the distance.
No replacement is it for a warm loving embrace.
The days are still too many for those who seek a loss.
Too many do they seem.
For the longing it has grown.
But these days they must wait
Wait till that day when with a welcome embrace
They will once again be as one.
But memories he does have of that trip that seems so long ago.
He remembers the affection of his girl and the
trouble he found when the red wine to much he enjoyed.
The memories of it and of happy times they have enjoyed have been comfort to them
both, a last minute panic they did encounter.
For it seemed her trip would be postponed
a lack of money the reason for the cause.
But a solution it was found, no postponed trip for her.
So know the count is on.
It is only days and not weeks that are now numbered,
and a small number that be.
Of her trip it has been of wonder.
Of meeting her distant family a delight.
But now the trip is ending and the heartache has begun,
For a little girl there is, a sister to the traveller.
A painful message she must delivery to the one whose heart she has filled.
Mark Reed
11
The Faces of Today
What say of today, what strangers will you meet, on the streets of great cities they
walk, to the places in the streets.
They hurry fast they do, ignoring all around,
The Bum’s, The Tramp’s and The Homeless, their faces in the crowd.
Of goals they are heading for, of more debt they soon will be, for today is a place of
need, of lack of community.
But of care there is for those around that today has beaten down, a place of shelter
and of food there is, for the growing crowd.
Of greed there is a plenty and leaders there are few.
But victims there are many in this time of need anew.
Mark Reed
12
The Green Gables
The day had drawn to an end as a fiery night sky bid goodnight to all.
For Bill & Ted it marked the last night of their 4 month cattle muster.
Exhausted they dismounted their trusty steeds, walking them to water and to feed.
Tied up the men left them as they headed through the doors of the local pub.
With a beer in their hands and a steak before them they settled down to the welcoming
sight of a home cooked meal.
The mood in the pub was as normal and in the corner a telly showed the news, no need
did they have whilst on the land.
Ted is alerted for a familiar sight he sees whilst looking up from his beer towards the
telly, this sight it seems bringing back painful memories for him
“And here we are outside the now 100 year old Green Gables Cafe, the oldest in
Ireland, and indeed the oldest Cafe around.”
The reported reads from a prepared script.
“Around me people are thronging together, telling stories and reminiscing about the
past.
There must be many people the world over who have happy memories about this
place.”
Looking up from his beer Bill noticed Ted getting a bit misty-eyed.
He looked over at his mate and wondered why, in all their years together he had never
seen him cry, let alone get misty-eyed, not even when in his arms he held his
nephew’s beautiful baby girl.
But this is something different, that cafe on the telly had stirred a painful memory
A story from the past.
Leaving the pub the 2 men walked out to their horses, and mounting them again they
headed westward towards Teds place.
The 2 men entered through the rough wooden door and made their way to the chairs
before the fireplace.
On the mantle above the fireplace Bill noticed the photo of an attractive red headed
woman standing before the Green Gables Cafe.
It’s name clear in the photo.
Quietly Bill sat there as Ted, carrying an arm full of wood brought the open fire to life.
Sitting down beside his mate a beer in both their hands he began to tell his story a
story he had never before told.
“You know when I was a young buck I had one dream in life, to travel to at least one
foreign land before life and it’s chores and obligations stopped me in my tracks.
For the next 3 years I worked like stink in order to have money to achieve my goal.
I travelled from farm to homestead picking up work where I could.
I chopped wood, castrated sheep, branded cattle, and finally did I have enough, and
what a glorious day that was.
To the English isle’s I travelled, it was a journey of 3 hard months travelling on that
ship.
I swear it rained on almost every day, rarely did we see the sun.
But the trip was worth it when into England our ship docked.
London was my first stop.
You know that place where the Queen lives has a fence bigger than I had ever seen
before, and what’s more there were these funny looking guards standing outside it rain
hail or shine, they must think she’s something big to give her all that pomp &
circumstance.
On one of the days I was there I actually saw the Queen.
I don’t know what it was but the crowds and those blokes in the big black hats were
everywhere, it must have been something important.
My next stop after that was Scotland.
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They say that there’s this monster down there, that people have to be afraid of it.
I don’t know what they’re so afraid of, she seemed friendly enough to me.
After that I travelled to Wales because a few people told me it was a grand place to
visit.
I saw castles the like of which you could only imagine, and enjoyed some damn
good tucker.
Now I knew I had to start heading back toward London in order to get home, for my
money it was running short, and a ticket for home I had to buy.
I took out my trusty map, the one I had used to get to here and plotted a track for
London.
Now there were several tracks I could’ve taken but the one I chose took me through
Ireland.
It was such a grand place to finish my journey.
I was a few days short of travelling to London when I stopped at the Green Gables
Cafe, the one that was on the telly.
I walked in there and was greeted by the most beautiful Green Eyed, Red Haired, Irish
Lass I had ever seen.
I stood there for a few minutes just looking at her, at her red hair as it hung in a pony
tail down her back and those gorgeous emerald green eyes.
Never in my life had I seen a woman as beautiful as her.
“Where you from stranger? ”
She asked me, I just stood there for a moment not quite believing she had actually
spoken to me.
“I’m from Australia.”
I answered, “You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Oh I have, I learnt about Australia at school.”
There was something about her, something special and I found myself actually talking
to this strange beautiful Irish lass, I don’t know what it feels like but I do believe I was
falling in love with her.
It was that accent of hers that caught me.
That and that incredible red hair of hers.
Fair dinkum mate I was like a fish on a hook.
She captured me hook-line-&-sinker and by nightfall she was calling me hers.
But as I was an awkward bushy from Australia I was no good for the likes of someone
like her, she deserved someone better than me.
But no, it was me she wanted, and what a bloody shock that was.
My homecoming I postponed, for she bedded me at her place.
Never been one for the girls have I, and never before had I been kissed.
But I tell you mate she had lips like diamonds, and if there was ever a kissing
competition she would win it hands down.
Fair dinkum mate, I was stricken by this girl, and soon I moved into her bed.
It was there I found that pale skin of hers, skin covered in more freckles than a man
could count in a life time.
And by God she had me heavy breathing some nights.
A cleaner in the cafe I soon became, a job she helped me get.
To wake up beside, to work beside, lunch with, joke with and then go home with the
girl a man is stricken on is better than all the aussie sunrises & sunsets a man would
see in his life on the land.”
A pause came between them as into his beer Ted hid himself, he didn’t want his mate
to see a tough bushy like him cry over a girl.
25 years they have been friends, travelling to all parts of Australia, never once has Ted
let himself get close to woman and Bill wondered why, for he has seen many come into
14
his life only to have him push them away again.
Ted is what a lot around call a ladies’ man, he is charming, has a way with words.
And many have wondered over the years why he has never settled, never married and
never had kids of his own when he is such a wonder with others kids.
“I lost her you know on the day we were to say I do.
For months I had tried to ask her, to give her the ring I had saved for but it never
seemed to be the right time.
It was on a Sunday Picnic that I finally popped the question; her response was to wrap
herself around me kissing me with those luscious lips of hers.
She told me when she married she wanted it to be in an old fashioned way.
She showed me a photograph of her grandmother on her wedding day, she said she
wanted to be dressed the same as her, and to travel to the church in a Horse & Cart.
A storm had been brewing for some days before our big day and it was on our big day
that it struck.
The distance she had to travel from her place to the church was not far but the bridge
she had to cross on the way was rickety and the wind was blowing something fierce
whipping up the waves beneath the bridge.
The bridge it gave way under the weight of her horse & cart sending it crashing into
waters below.
The horse, we found it running past the church, the remains of the wagon trailing
behind it.
Me and some of the locals went down to the bridge to see what had happened.
Laying there amongst the remains of the wagon and the bridge was my bride in her
beautiful dress.
She must have seen me because I heard her call my name.
She died in my arms you-know, her beautiful red hair laid wet over my arm, as her
body it did go limp.
Our church, the one we were to be married in was where I buried her.
Raining it was that day.
People told me that it was good fortune to have it rain on ones funeral day, but what
luck had the rain brought us.
Never have I been back, never again have I seen her in her final resting place.
The priest who buried her told me that when I part we will be joined.”
Bill left his mate that night, his heart was heavy, his mind a whirl, and he wondered
how long his mate would last.
A storm struck the next day and Bill woke and looked out, looked at the rain that was
pelting and thought of his old mate.
By afternoon the rain had ceased and Bill road to visit his mate.
The cottage it stood still and Bill could feel that a passing had happened.
Smoke billowed from the chimney, the fire was roaring hard.
Into the cottage Bill stepped and sitting before the fireplace Ted sat.
The picture he had seen standing proudly on the mantle was now clutched tightly
between Teds hands and a smile lay fixed upon his face.
For his mate had returned to her.
Returned to that place so very far away.
Returned to her loving arms.
Forever more they would be as one.
Mark Reed
15
The Homeless
Tis a lonely road for those who are forced to trod it.
This road to a home on the ground and a bed made up of whatever meek belongings
they have found this day. It is
a road without end and without peace as they wait with nerves as tight as wire,
waiting for what horror may befall them this night.
Shelter they must find when the cruel winds of winter strike at their very bones or
when the rain others crave for soak them, leaving them unable to dry for other clothes
they have not.
The first rays of sunlight signal the start of yet another day as they turn to find their
bottle from the night before still with some welcoming liquid in it that will take from
their bones the chills from the night before and beat down those unwelcome pangs of
hunger.
With their bedding safely hidden away another day starts.
Excitement when found in the first rubbish bin the end of a meal another had thrown
out.
Guarding their find they sit down to eat.
This morning at least has started off well.
They now sit on street corners begging for the spare change those that walk pass
might have on them, many pass but a few at least dig their hands into their pockets
handing over money they consider small change but for them it’s the difference
between eating or starving, of buying or begging for yet another welcome bottle that
contains some sort of alcohol.
A smile comes to their bleak gaunt faces for tonight they will not go to bed hungry, for
tonight the food van arrives and with it people prepared to see them for who they
really are and not just a bunch dirty homeless people who don't try to better
themselves.
There they sit eating their donated meal while those rushing for their trains & buses
pass them without giving them a sideways glance, their minds to busy on their
sumptuous meal waiting for them at home, of a warm bed and a television to fall
asleep in front of.
And yet another night begins for them as they make their way back to where they have
stashed their bedding from the night before which may be added to by the bonanza
they have found this day, to sleep a restless sleep only to trudge that lonely road to
who knows where tomorrow.
Mark Reed
16
The Journey Home
This is the story of the Journey that brought my beloved Companion home.
Now this journey started where the other finished 11 weeks ago,2 states across and
the home of her father which also contained a sweet little brother & sister,2 siblings
who as yet she had not met.
The journey was an adventure to her that was sent across, from her loved ones she
was taken and so it was at the 11 week mark of her trip that she returned to those that
missed her most, Her mother & Her friends.
Her journey home was fraught with troubles, the ticket price it had increased and
monetary help she now sought.
But now the ticket was bought and her bags were finally packed, she was ready for the
journey home.
It was mid-afternoon the hour that she arrived and waiting most expectantly was the
one that missed her most.
The joy could not be measured in that that struck him most when her beautiful; face it
first appeared to him.
To embrace her was a joy; to kiss her was sheer bliss.
For he knew now for certain that she was finally home.
Mark Reed
17
The Longing
A parting it did happen by a strong & caring soul, for compliancy had reared its ugly
head.
Across 2 states she had to travel, into her father’s loving arms she went,
An unknown brother & sister she did meet.
The time of parting she longed to increase, when learn she did that a child’s birthday
party was to take place, the pleasure of her new found family she wanted ever more.
All the while a lonely writer waited, waited for her comfort, waited for her return.
For no other like her had he met, his heart a barren place.
An ache it first developed when those dreaded words first came.
An ache that had deepened when the news that their parting was to be longer.
Mixed emotions soon came his way about the girl he thought he loved, but they
were soon replaced and the love restored when memory of their recent trip away came
flooding back to him.
A memory came to him of that time when in the hall she stood before him.
He remembered her soft gorgeous face and of her hair that was freshly washed.
He also remembered her standing before him wrapped only in a towel.
He wondered as he looked at her what beauty & splendour he would have seen if
indeed that towel had fallen from her gorgeous naked frame.
This dream it did bring splendour, for a dream was all he had.
Of a girl that he loved and that indeed loved him.
With this dream it did brings smiles, because of what it would have brought
If indeed the dream had came true.
But a dream is all he has of the girl who knows his love.
And memories stay with him.
The time apart he has with him, a calendar he now counts.
Down to the day, and to the moment when she returns to him.
Mark Reed
18
The Love of a Child
What say you of a child, what say you of your past?
For each of us has been there, and can remember from the past.
There are stories each can tell us, of times of wonder, and times joy.
So let us never forget that we have been there, and we have brought our parents joy.
So let us celebrate this time of new, when each can share, and teach and show.
Let us celebrate the children as the precious gifts they are, and let us forget the times
when into our lives grief they have brought our way.
For they are our gifts, a mirror of ourselves.
And joy they bring our way.
Mark Reed
19
The Return of my Companion
2 weeks it has been since last we were together.
I can still remember that final night, the night that was our last.
It was in your room that we spoke, for another reason I was there.
I can still remember your soft silken hair, your full luscious lips and that incredible hug
that told me I was loved.
It is something I have held with me ever since.
Another month we are to be parted, a child’s birthday the reason.
Strain it was for me when first we were apart, at my lowest I asked you, “If I
were to say I love you would you believe me? ”
Yes you Goose was your response, it was the response I so desperately needed.
In the street beside my car our final embrace was, forbidden I was to cry, but the tears
they came anyway.
Your final words to me were.
“We are Cats and Cats bounce back.”
And so it is as I write knowing your love for me is as strong as ever that I have found
the ability to go on.
It is by the Chinese Zodiac that we’ve found we are both Cats.
We are Stubborn, We are Solitary and we care for and protect those around us.
My longing for your return is still there, as strong as the day we parted.
Await I do for your eventual return, when into your arms I will know I am loved, and
on your lips that I am special.
So until then my sweet keep spreading the love that surrounds you and which you are
all too willing to share, for I have found the strength to carry on, I have indeed
bounced back.
So do not worry about me, I am alright.
I now await that special day when into my arms you once again will be.
For my heart it has been damaged, I do believe yours has been to, may your love for
me and mine for you be the thing that mends that damaged part of our hearts, when
together they will be joined.
And if again we are to be parted, let us remember this time apart.
So the longing will not be as painful, and the time apart not so long, for we will know
that, although away from our special person there is someone who loves us, and will
be there when we return.
Mark Reed
20
The Wedding
A beautiful dawn welcomes them as to the house’s they head
For make-up has to be applied
and suits & gowns be worn.
Different colours they are worn by those who
Accompany her this day.
Of the groom they are in black.
The bride’s maids are in different colours,
Each accentuating the beauty of the wearer.
There is a smile on the bride whose first photos are
taken this day.
But the smile hides the nerves that a day like this brings.
The wedding party of friends it is made.
4 children there are and one to care for them.
5 couples finish it off, and now it is the time.
A beautiful young teenage girl the bride was
When first she met the priest.
A leader & a mentor he is
A friend beyond all others.
Many stories does he tell
Of young people’s camps does he.
Of finding this cute young girl in places
Where she shouldn’t be.
The moment it has arrived.
The readings they have finished,
The preparation completed and now it is the time.
Private words do they have.
For them alone they are written.
Words of Love and of Commitment.
And then they say, I DO.
Mark Reed
21
Their Time Apart
Unpleasant news it came to him
From the one that cares for her
That the length of their time apart
Would need to be extended.
Tears they came to him when hearing of this news.
This was supposed to the week of her return.
Longingly he waited for the one
That knows his love.
A distant voice on a telephone no answer
For a hug.
But waiting he now does
For the one that knows his love.
For he knew their time apart will be over soon.
Now the memory of their trip away still fervent on his mind.
Its memories a pleasant reminder
Of The Love, The Care & The Passion
These two share amongst each other.
Now the memories are not fading fast
Of the love they have to share,
Or of the mysteries of their time away.
Of alone they are to share.
So now he waits with patients
For the one that cares for him.
Of her return, her arrival.
And what that will mean to him.
Mark Reed
22
There was once a Girl
There was once a girl, golden was her hair, who through her womanly wiles captured
my heart.
It was on the dance floor where we met; there was her sister and another too.
It was in her lounge while I waited for a ride that our love for the other grew.
On this night I was injured, the result of being a boy racer.
The weekend before whilst on my bike I sped along travelling faster than my mate who
was in a car behind me.
But then there was a curve, the curve I failed to negotiate.
My leg it was damaged, not badly it was, but severe enough to prevent me from
dancing with her at the dance that we were heading to the following Saturday night.
So instead of riding to her house, travelling in her car and home by bike afterward, I
was reduced to travelling by public transport.
Thankfully the tram stopped near her house.
I can still remember how she looked as I entered her house that night, in a white gown
she stood, her golden hair cascading down her back, while her sister, she was in black.
The stern look I received I deserved, for I was lucky to be walking that night, all
though with the aid of a walking stick.
In the front seat she sat me,2 others sat behind as to the dance we drove.
Many a comment I received as to what had I done to myself this time.
The men’s eyes all a glow, for tonight at least she was fair game
Hard it was to watch her dancing in the arms of another, for those arms they should
have been mine, if only I wasn’t injured.
To our favourite cafe we then headed, and in the defence of my ladies was I, as when
we crossed the road hoons jeered at them, but between them I placed myself and to
the cafe we strode.
It was not to impress why I had defended them, it was my duty, I was a man who
protected my 3 ladies.
Later that night as the clock struck 12 we arrived back at her place, the other
passengers soon departed, and into her lounge we strode.
That night was unusual, that night was delight, for never before had a girl I fancied
also fancied me and sitting across the lounge cupid used his charms.
Now the break-up it was painful, the break-up it was sudden and for many years I
mourned her loss.
But it is now that I can remember her and how she looked that night.
My one regret was I never felt her lips against mine.
I know now what I didn’t realise then, when leaving a night, the like that we shared
that night; you kiss your lady goodnight and don’t walk by and ignore her, but just that
I did.
Now her whereabouts are unknown, her whereabouts are rare, but think of her I do, a
pull of my heart I feel, for she was my first, and at the moment my only true love.
And that is something you never forget.
Mark Reed
23
What is it to be Loved
To be Loved is to be Remembered.
Remembered for who you are and the special things you did.
To be Loved is to be Hugged.
A hug of Love, Warmth & Caring, this is where true love lies
To be Loved is to be Cared for.
To know someone cares for you and will be at your side when times get tough and you
wonder is life really worth going on.
To be Loved is to Love.
To Love all who are around you and to let them love you.
To Love is to Learn.
To Learn that you are Loved.
Mark Reed
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