Titanic (Second draft)

Titanic at sea did not see the berg
They could have seen the berg and sent word
Instead there was death and panic
A cold oceanic
Some say the fireworks and stars looked like magic
But to see their faces
Dying in icicle laces
Must have been traumatic
The ship breaking apart
Breaking my heart
I look at the sky
Asking the stars why?
Pretty points of light and
Such a violent fate
A child holding on to her porcelin doll
Beautiful long curly hair
Playing a lullaby
There is calm on her face
How pretty is her embrace
Love is not in a suitcase
And everyone is looking for a boat with a space
I think of the workmen with their coalface
Life is a game of luck
They didn't draw an ace
Jack and Rose are being chased
Down the steeple,with water to their waist
The captain with a look of disgrace
I cry
I can see his love and regret
A tragedy we will never forget
A Hollywood set
I find hard to accept
The musicians with there gift of belonging
Playing their instruments night longing
Vicars praying head stronging
As the water comes in
I see a polished piano
Tipping on its side
That will be its last sound
I pray God will preserve it somehow
Or will ghosts replace it with a row?
The 'Heart of the Ocean' living in secret in Roses palm
Jack whispering a psalm
Photos living by her side
Jack,I am so sorry she wasn't your bride
Beautiful,like a rose wearing a white wedding dress
Then,like two synchronised dolphins surviving Titanic
The Vows
I dress I drink I only know you
A song comes on I only know you
To kiss your living lips
Your accent my living flower
Your heart my fortress
My tower

Visual

Picture of ship with breaking heart

I want to live a pure love
Right my heart
A magic art

A cross
A anchor
A heart

A love that is beautiful
A robin wearing a red power dress

Afraid

Someone please come to my aid
People are jade

I need to 'Health up!!!'

Love letter

Whatever you do I will always love you
I am half a butterfly
I will always need you

I just love you
Your virtue
Your story a world truth

You are honest
You are the greatest

What shall I write?

I am the water
You are the light

I am the air
You are the kite

I am the picture
You are the sight

I am the earth
You are the height

Flowers apart
You are the fight

Playing the piano
Reaching the branch keys
Finding middle c
I come back to you

At Grandmas

I sat on a little step in the lounge
Listening to family talking about music
We listened to old LP's
I was amazed at how they went round and round
I imagined running on the record Grandpa found

Voices

I try to row away from the voices
I try to ignore them
Dusting all the photographs
Leaving circles like rainbows on the glass frames
I spray lavender
Lavender is growing tall in our house
I sing a song into the night
Ghosts of purple light
I need love,I find myself turning everything into a heart
A heart tomato,a heart pepper,a heart potato,a heart slice of bread

I am in hell
I need to tell
I need to yell

I need a sign,a peace

As children

Playing on the grass in summer
We talked about being a Walking day drummer

Blossom breeze beauty

Sometimes their were red squirrels that held our gaze
We stayed silent like before a phrase

I cry over love,sadness,loneliness,pity,death

Is it fate that I navigate?
I am on the edge of the playground

Tablets have turned me into a sizer
Please God help me to be a riser
Be wiser

I used to wonder
Will the hospital review turn into a rescue?

Childhood memories

As we approach Grandmas house I am already thinking about dolls and sweets
As we listen to Jazz on the radio I think of Grandpa on the saxophone and pretend to play the drums

Memory

Jumping up and down to Top of the Pops

Being chief recorder player

Playing marbles with will

Music is

The gift of belonging with sound

The sun and her psychic eye!!!

Photo of me
Washing up standing on a chair
Wearing princess shoes

Secret photos in a drawer

Words for a sunset?

Saw a balloon over stream walking
I pray,please stay in the sky

Playtime

Bubbles on each others faces
Splashing each other!!

Writing class
Flowers growing in the grass

Writing is eye acting

I wonder

If I lived in another country,city,town
Would I tumble-down?

The more pounds
The more clouds

Its a decade
But I still get haunted by that grade
If feels like rapid gunfire
I am tripping on some wire and they laugh

Creeping up
No longer a cute pup
I wish I could be happy with little on my plate and cup

Wickiup (American Indian hut)
Protect me!!!