Entanglement Theory

Long, long, long ago,
Beyond the scope of time,
Your shiny, spinning rock star
Collided into mine.
Left a meteoric scar
Across my cosmic heart –
A crater lying aeons deep
A lifetime’s width apart.

Far, far, far away.
Bonds that can’t be severed,
Bound my lonely heart to yours
Our orbits changed forever.
In a cold, dark, empty space
Our bodies out of time,
Knew we’d be together, love
Further down the line.

If the numbers all add up
And the cosmic maths is right,
The physics that is drawing us
Won’t give up the fight.
A million miles of galaxy
Can’t keep us apart –
We bleed the same blue star dust;
Same plasma in our hearts.

A promise made so long ago
Sends us spinning through the skies
In opposite directions –
You turn left and I spin right.
Yet we are still together,
Connections running deep -
The stories and the songs we share
Will bring you back to me.

Nothing can tear our hearts apart
Without forcing a hole
In the holy matter of time and space,
In the fabric of our souls.
And so our planets circle
Around the same bright star
In spirals of galactic love
That keep us near and far.

Interstellar longing,
A message from above:
Find your inner compass -
A universal Love.

Places of Poetry - Honing Time

Here is my first poem for the wonderful Places of Poetry project where you can read, rate and pin your own poems about places in England & Wales.

This piece - Honing Time was conceived just outside the St Peter & St Paul church at Honing, North Walsham in Norfolk.

Sat in the car, warm
artificial coziness embracing
life worn bones, lovelorn tones
cossetting weak flesh in sleepy summer aroma.

Outside, mini helicopters whirr,
dragonflies zipping back and forth amongst
fields of wheat, ferociously engaged
in a busy ballet, a network of greetings.

Transported through millennia
in the blink of an uncertain eye
by the rogue time machine
that is this Norfolk countryside.

Searching for clues of who I might be –
notice the field, its hand has revealed –
the five of spades caught up in the shape,
the fiery beacon of glimmering trees

alight in the shimmering heat of just gone noon
on this pleasantly barmy august day.
Green olive branches sway gracefully,
long swathes of ecstatic leaves reach

out in all directions, beckoning me
towards their haze fuelled dream.
An aura of whispered secrets glows
translucent, spectrums sing

a multicoloured halo of time
traversing tales, long ago stories
of what might have been, what was
and what may be on its way.

Hypnotised mind fills with memories,
dreams and long forgotten hopes.
In a trance, I am thinking the thoughts of another;
Do I see what she sees too?

How many others have sat in this spot;
how many others have stood in this place;
observed the same view transformed
by the passing years? How long have these trees

watched us, overheard our sighs and
wondrous gasps? How long have they danced
their magic entrancing her and him and I
through glowing portals to other times?

Ask the dragonflies, what have they seen?
They will laugh at our notion, ridiculous
of individual lifetimes. Prehistoric creatures
have seen more than we could ever hope to be.