I look often at ants on the ground
How dreadfully busy they are.
So filled with purpose is there every move.
Yet in all their meandering
They cannot see me that is above them
Blind they are to the world and all its glory.
Summer dresses are so neat.
They look so light, they are so sweet.
They help you bear the summer heat.
And for those who look they are a treat.
I have in my hand my phone, my tool.
Nimbly my thumb taps out reams of verse.
The screen fills with lines thought out at the speed of frantic text.
There is danger in the speed however.
One false move and rhyme turns to nonsense.
One button up and the newly formed words are lost to the ether.
And I am left, my muse forced to retrieve the words.
To reclaim verse from electronic limbo.
A heavy mist of rain falls from the steel-grey sky,
I and my dog at my side shrug at each other and head out, determined to complete our morning ritual.
Clothes and hair act as sponges growing steadily heavier as if they are absorbing the moisture straight for the air.
We are both cold and miserable, our plight made all the worse for the early hour forsakes anybody else to share it with.
We continue ever onwards, the smells of summer linger in the air , mingling with wet dog.
We look out across the bridge, into the rain-misted distance as if into the future,
Our minds already through the warm door of home.
I go to meet you at the Spire,
It towers into the sky, piercing it like a hypodermic,
There is a spray of oil soaked rain drops as it sticks into the mud-grey sky.
It is a miserable day and so am I in sympathy.
It has been a long hard week,
Filled with drudgery and disappointment,
I see you at the base you look at me and smile.
You only seem to use that smile with me,
No one else who knows you can describe your smile the way that I see it.
It uses your whole body,
An explosion of emotion that shines from your face,
It looks involuntary,
Like you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to,
And it is for me alone,
The misery in my heart has been blown away,
The dark weather takes a second stage,
And I am me again, with you.
Spawned from a single mother Eve,
Spread through the world like thistledown.
We all lie under the same sun,
Nourished by the same light,
Yet in different colours shapes and sizes,
Joined by the difference,
United by the common humanity,
To be human is to differ,
To be human is to note in the difference the sameness.
joe2poetry 