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Dave Taylor Poem
Wild beauty
Light, filtered through wild racing clouds,
Touches the surfaces of the heathered moors.
A living glowing curve and sweep,
Giving soft edges their meaning.
Moving them magically to the eye,
Like gowns of ancient beauty.
This is where the wild things dwell
Deep within, so Deep within.
That's where you will find me.
Deep within, where the wild things dwell.
That light of yours touches my surfaces.
And gives meaning to all those soft edges.
The curve and sweep of you through me,
In patterns of heartfelt beauty.
This is how the wild things dwell,
Deep within, so deep within.
The wild things dwell for you.
In every wild new day.
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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Dave Taylor Poem
Meadow
Breezes ripple through the grasses bodyand depth.
A breathing soft mass of seeded heads wave en-mass.
Multitudes of bent heads gaze around,
Inhaled and softly released as one.
Meadow flowers nod in small shapes,
Stirred amongst their green entwined fabric.
Given to heavenly lustre like small pale gems.
Pretty and subtle in their way of life.
Purple stars shine down on golden cups,
Delicate frills of white overlook pink hearts.
Scattered in haphazard patterns,
when the eye seeks them out.
Clothed in leaves of different hues.
Graceful steps, picked and chosen gently,
Careful tread like a slow slow dance.
Given to the meadow like a wearer of a gown.
She gives a meaning to the colours of its cloth.
Green eyes blend with the grasses breath,
They catch the sway and ebb like subtle fires.
The gentle sway of her curve and dance.
A mortal light of a beautiful girl,
so framed in the meadows heart.
Grass heads anoint her palms,
Sensual touches anoint their day.
Stars and gems give her pale skin glow.
Slim-limbed her footfall gives the path new sound,
Head tilted and with playful smile,
she infuses me with an ember's warmth.
There I watch as she comes near,
To touch and gently stroke my hair.
My softened eyes fold into hers
as the grasses stir around.
Her hair lays warmth against my skin.
And I am home with her wearing her meadow gown.
I love her in her meadow gown.
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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Dave Taylor Poem
Catching someone..
How do you catch someone's eye?
When you walk beside them.
Where the sound of their voice,
Mesmerises you - but the content floats past.
Could it be when they turn their head slightly?
Or do they move their vision away too quickly,
As you move in a shadow alongside -
Made up of granted history and assumptions.
What do you want them to see that they don't see already?
Are we changed in some way and require that confirmation, a sign of acceptance.
Or do we want to inflame a passionate response or conflict in their world.
How do you catch someone's eye?
When all you want is to be seen and recognised, for who we are now.
And in the catching, is there a sense of keeping, or is there an element of casting off older confines.
The catalyst for rising anew, through the fracture of a belief, long lost.
Will they see it in the glass and coloured reflections of our eyes?
Do the depths of us reveal themselves in the faint smile we return.
Oh how is the day seized and captured in that grain of time.
How do you catch someone's eye?
To say so much with a look,
To change worlds with a glance.
And be loved for the vulnerable entities that we are, as we wait for subtle yet powerful recognition.
To meet them and feel it resound in their touch and find acceptance in unfettered richness.
How do you catch someone's eye ....?
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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Dave Taylor Poem
When the north wind blows, with its edge, its bite, I think of you, wrapped in coat and scarves, framing the pale skin of your features and setting your eyes to shine with quiet calm.
When the east wind blows with its sea-spray scent, bringing the clean breath of vast seas, I think of you, on a beach, in my arms, so alive that you make the setting look mundane in its comparison to your gentle smile.
When the west wind blows its earthen charms, strong and rich of hill and vale, pent and unleashed to spend itself against us,
I think of you, skipping across a moortop, kissing the country with light steps like a dream, shaping the dream I have of you, so beautiful in the green, green green .... green.
And when the south wind stirs a beat of heart so heady and weighty, like a perfume of sensuality in its warm enveloping breath,
I think of you in a passion, a charge of senses, a myriad of temperatures and colours of summer and warmer climes.
I think of you as sun and heart and love, I think of you in caress and song and word, I think of you in life and joy,
I think of you as past, as present and the definition of more. I think of you as mine, in every layer and meaning and gift of myself.
I think of you as summer.
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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Dave Taylor Poem
Feather edged clouds
Softly they lay, enticingly close
On the air of the day
Gliding and reaching across the sky
To kiss the peaks and ridge lines of the worthy.
Overlapping blades of varied length
Slow in unison
Their colours but washes of the same hue
The beautiful plains of a delicate fabric.
Fire to the tendrils of their edges
Hone the blades in simple glorious shine
Tracing their touch in cut-less discipline
Where the air survives un-wounded.
The feather edges of a rare thing
Commonly seen but not realised
The soft defined edges of a flight
So smooth and sure
The day's life beats in easy parallel
To feel such a touch of those edges
Smoothing the mind and gently stepping to a dance of the awaiting sunset
Careful and dreamlike, the feathers glow.
Careful and dreamlike they smooth my mind.
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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Dave Taylor Poem
When breath returns sweeter,
From its journey into you.
Sent so softly on its way,
To blend and gently wend,
Its path to feed your heart.
When breath comes eking softly,
a returning theif it seems.
Bringing its treasures forth,
And brushing against a dream.
Sweetly it stirs the soul.
Oh how breath comes dancing.
The music of its step.
Rising to move as in a swathe.
Like swaying summer wheat,
in the fields of the lovers' lands.
When the breath returns so sweetly,
From its journey so divine.
The story of its temporary capture,
Speaks beguiled wonder.
And comes to fill my mind.
Then gathering like soft seasons' rains,
To loose ourselves and sigh.
The breath we share,
Is tenderly given to beauty,
sent so sweetly forth,
Again......again......and again
................and again.
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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Dave Taylor Poem
Riverswell
Muted mirror, liquid rich so deceiving.
A mirage of a peaceful flow.
How high and wide the banks recede,
To the mindless pushing swell.
Muted colours, cream greens so beguiling.
A mirage of another world.
How brown the greens seem now,
In the water of the portal's world.
Softer tones I see of you - blurred beauty.
Walking along the portal bank.
Pale colours flowing gracefully,
Love's light dancing on mirror's edge.
Muted window, blurred to a softer promise.
Timeless as the suns path.
Reflected in a faded glory,
No less beautiful with your shine-soft glow.
To stand in green and muted reflection.
Surrendering to time-slow trance.
The portals dream-enchantment,
Look for my brush stroke on the mirrors edge.
Copyright © Dave Taylor | Year Posted 2015
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