When we are young we yearn for something dangerous, alone.
Miles from all the sanctions, structures, household rules of home. 

Tempting shiny worlds appear, round corners to explore.
Day by day we inch our way, bags packed at waiting door. 

Not knowing is intoxicating, Sleeping when you can.
Eating when you're hungry, only, Fleshing out vague plans. 

 A Catwalk of exotic friends, March in and out of view.
 They draw a new exciting line, A portrait sketch of you. 

As time speeds up our faces hold, Our joy and pain, our fear;
In ever darkening outlines, New lines drawn year by year. 

We seek to see in strangers, the language bodies hold.
The Holy grail of loving; The rainbow pot of gold . 

And searching for our tribe, We gravitate and hone-
The pack of cubs we recreate, In our revolving home . 

In times on earth, we're lucky, To experience the deep,
The treacle pool of liquid love, As through our blood it seeps. 

Yet I have heard from wise ones, who live a thousand lives;
That seeking self in others, is both tragic and unwise. 

Inside the mirror always, From that adolescent child,
Was everything to blossom, From scattered seed so wild. 

For love is pure and boundless, When given free and kind.
And holding your own value, makes love more rich, less blind. 

Be loved and let the light in, Be all you want to be;
For love and life is truly lived, When your own heart is free. 

2 thoughts on “Lover”

  1. What beautiful words, Liz. Thought provoking to say the least. I’m off to my Mum’s today, but one of these days I will head south to see you… maybe to your exhibition? Good luck selling your caravan – what a transformation since its storm damage. Well done. Love your blog too – so many new creations – long may they continue. Love & thoughts, Gillian x

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  2. Thankyou it would be wonderful to see you. I realise how much there is to catch up on with so many of our friends now. But it will be as if we saw you yesterday. Warmest hugs and love, Liz x

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