The Highs and Lows on the Road to Atonement: A Poem

It all began long, long ago, when I fatefully put my feet up.
Week after week I’d laboured, sprucing house from top to tail.
I’d burnt the candle at both ends, but now I drank a cup,
yet while my body’s work was done, my mind still blew a gale.

Up, up I flew and farther still; to the dizzying heights I reached.
Entranced by associative delight — until fright snatched hold of me.
Symbol, sign and metaphor, the flood my defences breached;
burst and scattered far and wide, connected teardrops in a sea.

The Lovers' Inner Sense: A Poem

Softly-spoken, sentimental words, they arise welcome yet unbidden,
like affectionate rays of sun, through dense woodland crowns.
Lighting up a sacred space in the undergrowth and
glinting in the swirling, gurgling waters of the nearby brook.
  
A rustling in the autumn leaves draws my attention.
“Hello, Lickle Sleepy Eyes”, she whispers, both strange yet so familiar.
And I catch a snatch of a voice I haven’t heard for many moons,
cooing softly: “We, too, love to be recognized and loved.”