Tag Archives: lovers

Love

Inside her heart

She can fly when she dreams

She can sing when she walks

She can smile with her soul

And love with her eyes

She can touch in the lark

And pray to your mind

She can dream for you both

And make love with her words

She can snuggle from afar

And in the brown of her eyes

She can reflect what yearns

Inside my heart

Frankie Mcgivney writing stuff that matters

Your place

It’s taken

The place

Where you

Dreamed

To die

Embraced

With stories

To hear

Gone

A tear fell

Then some

more

Silence

Fell

A breath

Deep

Hardly filled

The void

And you

Said

The words

The right words

To the echo

Inside

Of a crow’s

Caw

The sound

Of the crack

Along your

Heart

Sealing the

Gap the light

Once creeped

The monstrous

Roar

Of the

Torrent

Ripping

Open

Your

Soul

(C) Francis joesph Thomas Mcgivney

Forever

They drip to languish

Beneath the collar

The tears of realisation

Her smell was in your

Dreams but her hand

Is somewhere else

The smile languishes

Beneath the thoughts

The realisation her

Heart and yours

Will never drift apart

There is no Mountain Dew

No sunrise and falling moon

No painted smile

No flower in bloom

Can compare with her smile

The beauty spot on her cheek

The tiny imperfection

Of her perfect eyes

The colour of her skin

Her strength of her chin

The perfect curve of her nose

The shape her lips create

To form a aphrodisiac smile

Her scream upon your skin

Caresses the warmth within

The place deep inside your

Mind where your hearts

Beat is owned by her touch

Alone where the growl

Of your love making

Climaxes with eyes

Locked deep to see

The love you share

In mind and body

In flesh and words

In her in you

In us

(Frankie love her forever mcgivney

You forgot the end again

You forget where it began

Drifting from your eyes

Your fearful grip

On strands of words

You write each time

Her name her hair

Her smell her eyes

Lost to be refound

Through blurred notes

On unworthy slips

Of yellow and green

You make her laugh

You make her smile

You use your smarts

You use your words

To hide the fear

The darkness wins

Once more

The emotions remain

But her name

Even her name

Flounders on your lips

You forget when it began

But the agony of the end

Tightens it’s grip

repeats

To fade into a memory

Forever lost once more

You loved her once

You love her still

You will love her once again

(C)frankie Mcgivney

What to write

It was of a Monday when the lights came over the sun and the moon was just a memory not long forgotten and she held his hand by resting her head on his shoulder. No sleep had been enjoyed since love had been engaged upon with vigour and gentle touch under a moonless night. Never once from the beginning had he entered her body with the absence of a warmth in his heart which spread beyond the logic of his mind to delve deep beyond the locked chasms of his soul. A part of him he would have have denied existing but which he always held a secret hope of eventually discovering: she was beyond his reach in the normal course of human interactions with a beauty he would hold in his heart until the day its final beat lapsed his never ending regrets into the calm repose of nothingness. Somehow his words had transcended the physical inequality of their respective positions in the potential romantic pecking order of human interactions to allow for moments to be shared which would transform the world from one of drudgery to a place where the rainbow of the dragonfly’s wings sprinkled its magic along the yellow brick road of his destiny and he knows somehow hers too from the look in her eye and the smell in the air and the sound of her body.

The moon cast its trail painting a memory along the river under the bridge where he imagined grasshoppers playing fiddles among the dew drops of a morning capable and indeed willing to change the man he could ever be from such a silent morning onwards. Evolution expedited from a multi generational phenomenon to the wonderful instantaneous transformation of true love

As much as the field of daffodils did for a man of words so the moment would in vacant or in pensive thought be for ever the place he would revisit constantly to languish in a love beyond his highest expectations or imaginations.

To be continued…….

The most I’ve written in so long in a prose style. Words spilling from inside not sure of their origin but knowing the validity of their truth and the warmth of the image. Where do the words ever come from but once they start they refuse to stop there need to be set free only matched by my addiction to hear what they have to say. Voices in my mind would they have locked us in the home for the bewildered once of a not too far distant time. I promise myself to indulge with the keyboard on Saturday. What am I without my words but a beast roaming who has forgotten the beauty of the pen

Rambling spain

A line of ants passed me by unheeded by my presence as the sweat from my brow dripped upon their never ending toil. I however stood bent over fascinated at their maneuvers. My curiosity sated i passed on by along the deserted dust path with nothing but nick cave in my ear and the constant flutter of the hares darting in to multicolored half barren bushes as i approach. The smell of orange lingers on the air and i wonder are they hares or rabbits. Perhaps a bit of both. Crossbreeding and both species side by side. And i stroll on. The girl in the too tight leggings says hola. I find it hard to know where to look for her top is made for someone less fond of food as well. The auld lads all think im spanish i think. They give me the auld fella nods and the beunz diaz and i return the favour. Nick is hammering on about the big red hand and in the cool of the tunnel i feel shade and read the graffiti in illegible fluorescent shades of pink and blue and greens and i walk on somewhat more educated. The dog in need of anger management classes growls from behind an iron fence, his chain restricting him enough to put the hibbey gibbeys in me as to why he needs a chaining as well as a fencing. I tend towards the other half of the path while the tshirt is drowned in my hand and the heat on my skin reminds me of my bloodline which originated in this land where i feel so much at home. I bear their colour and their ease of pace and inside a fury made beautiful by its self containment within the bounds of self contentment.

I should have brought water but i feel strong. I have the goat in me to keep going, the mountain goat blood of my mothers side, the lack of equilibrium in my mental disposition acquried from the same source. The words and love of same dropped directly from the branches of my fathers orchard.

The point I’m aiming for is farther than it appears but it wont defeat me. The man with the moped tied with two dogs in need of walking passes me by and i smile. He raise his hand in salute and i do the same reflected in the mirror of his overladen motorised biwheel vehicle. A model long gone out of production yet still it plods along uncaring of its generational positioning.

I touch the wall and stop. Wild trees and a vslley to a near dry river. A long distance from the supposed catch of the so called fishing village yet still its holds the beauty of its functional claim. The trees bend with the multicolored flowered bushes to form the magnificane of this piece of the world where the ink traces the paper of the note book which was selected for me by the small hands i have held since her and his birth.

I smile and turn to return to the world beyond the wild of this moment

(C) frankie mcgivney in spain

Touch

He touches your skin

With trembling hands

Looks in your eyes

And

Your name

Echoes on his breath

His fingers on

Your cheek

He smiles

His body shudders

Inside your mind

His body crumbles

You feel

His hand

caressing

your scream

Once more

He waited

Until then

His lips upon

You

He whispers

From below

Into your heart

What you knew

When his eyes

And yours

Made us

(C) frankie mcgivney

ramblings lets see what happens

her name came up on the screen

i hesitated wondering

hello her sweet voice said

Hi I replied wanting to say something more but failing

how have you been

the same

i miss you

me too, where did you go

just roamed

oh right

where are you now

half way between here and no where

how do i get there

you leave her and thumb naked

its cold outside

it always was383542_10151100916073527_1434783921_n

the phone clicked

she still had the same number as before I could ring back some other time, but now i had to write.