‘Twas But A Twinkle

‘Twas but a twinkle that was ne’er to shine 

Blessing only found when all hope was gone 

Dream left unspoken is now but a shrine  

Would have been proud to hold you, bairn of mine 

Tune without lyrics is not called a song 

‘Twas but a twinkle that was ne’er to shine 

Suspended somewhere in grief’s soured time

Forever wondering what I did wrong 

Dream left unspoken is now but a shrine

Boy, girl... left unknowing feels like a crime 

Your name ne’er whispered from tip of my tongue

‘Twas but a twinkle that was ne’er to shine 

Still I daydream of our would-have-been time

Although unplanned... for you I do so long  

‘Twas but a twinkle that was ne’er to shine 

Dream left unspoken is now but a shrine  

© Debbie Razey 2019 - Violet Moon Poetry

We

Wanting forever before we’ve begun 

Telling our story with each breath of our lungs 

Painting a picture of how it will be 

Pinning down our winged-tipped love for all to see

Miles evaporated... enmeshed quantumly  

Never once questioning if we’re meant to be 

Naively believing in “forever young” 

Now testing the strength of how we are strung 

Dreams remain unrealised, left unsung 

Promises once witnessed to which we have  clung

Yet still across the stars we scribe; “you and me” 

Beguiled by love, bound, unwavering... are we 

© Debbie Razey 2019 - Violet Moon Poetry

Birdcage

Birdcage 

Through gilt worded vows I no longer fly 

Trapped unseen between mere shadow lit bars  

Cost of ego; ignored fate’s whispered sighs 

Forged in love’s lies our funeral pyre tarred 

Now damned to dwell beneath jewelled lined skies 

Wistful eyes sombre trace Orion’s belt  

With lofty looks where once my heart roamed free 

But with naught such comfort that I once felt 

For love you see imprisoned me with chains 

I am now shackled upon bended knee 

Soul tightly tethered in cast iron frame 

No more warm thermals will I glide upon 

With notions of romance I’ve gone insane 

Only in deaths trite tryst can I hear song 

© Debbie Razey 2019 - Violet Moon Poetry

Regret

you linger on the 

precipice of my conscience 

toiling... out of reach 

taunting, torturous regret

denies me chance... to forget 

© Debbie Razey 2019 - Violet Moon Poetry