Thirty years on 6th March

Thirty years have passed since he left this world, since the sea stole him. Long years of nights and days of wishing I had not encouraged him to go.

I remember where I was, what I was doing and what I was wearing when I heard the news that rocked my world and stole my breath. That fateful Friday evening. I hoped against hope throughout that night but in the early hours of the Saturday he came to say his final goodbye, and I knew he was gone.

Nearly a two month wait for his body to be recovered, one of the last to be brought home. Trapped in the capsized vessel.

The enduring image of those nightmare days and weeks of waiting for the news that his body had been found and would be brought ashore is that of the ship lying stranded on its side, nets over the hold doors to try to keep the sea from carrying away the contents of the car deck.

He is never far from my thoughts, but this year he has been more evident. Images of him, smiling and tanned (he was always tanned), his voice, his laugh, the sound of his bundle of keys jangling: always an advance warning that he was not far. This year I have felt the need to visit places he and I explored.

He was my lover, and my greatest friend. I miss him still, but no longer with the agonising ache of the early years. No longer with the same intense grief. Now the feeling is more one of sadness and regret, that he was taken too soon, that we never got to do and see the things and places we had planned. That the mistakes and errors that led to his death and the other 192 lives still continue to this day.

I am no longer unhappy without him. But I do still miss him. He will be forever in my heart.

The consequence of indifferent silence

Silence was his weapon of choice to slaughter all that she had felt for him
Chosen with care, he knew that silence would be the ultimate betrayal
His indifference was the cause of the death of her love for him

Her heart began to doubt the memory of every word he had ever said to her
To doubt and by so doing, destroy the dreams they had made and shared.
His betrayal lead her mind to doubt all that she had thought was true

She questioned every remembered whispered word. Each touch. Each thought of love.
He knew she needed to hear, to see, to touch, to cherish and be cherished
He knew, because she had begged him not to ever leave her in silence.

Silence. Remoteness. Indifference. Weapons he wielded with expertise and precision
Until, at last, her mind acknowledged and accepted the inevitable and
She returned to her half life to piece together a heart once more shattered by indifference.

Copyright © The Kentish Lass 2015

Autumn

I adore the golden hues of Autumn. The trees changing their greens to reds, russets, ambers, yellows, orange, gold, rare blue and blacks.

Early morning spider webs glistening with dew, appearing as precious gems strewn haplessly over bushes. Crisp morning frosts that freeze the exhaled breath. The Sunday afternoon walks in the woods, the rustle of leaves underfoot, returning home as the evening begins.

Drawing the curtains, closing out the world. That first time it is cold enough to light the open fire and being cosy.

The joy of celebrating the harvest in September. The hunt for nature’s jewels of horse chestnuts, cob-nuts, sweet chestnuts, rose-hips, haws, acorns, pine cones, elderberries, blackberries. Preserving the fruits to feed us through natures lean months reminding us of the joys of blossom that has been and will come again.

Cider making from the late apple harvest. Elderberry wine, Sloe Gin. The start of the jam, jelly, marmalade, pickle and chutney making. The satisfaction of seeing rows and rows of gleaming jars of preserved apples, pears, blackcurrants, blackberries, onions, beet roots. Michaelmas and the season for goose.

Halloween celebrations: not the trick or treaters but the old tradition of bobbing for apples, the ghost, or witch stories.

Bonfire Night, childhood memories of tomato soup in mugs (so special as drunk from a mug – no spoon!), sausages with onions in bread rolls, wrapped in paper napkins. Jacket potatoes cooked in the glowing embers of the bonfire. Sparklers! Catherine Wheels and star burst fireworks. Stir up Sunday and, for me this is, the start of the build to Winter and Christmas.

Copyright © October 2015 The Kentish Lass

The Seasons

How often have you been asked the question: which is your favourite season?

For me the answer is nearly always the season I am in at the time. Sounds like I’m taking the easy way out but actually I believe it is because there are different aspects of every season that thrill me. Warm me. Make me smile deep inside.

Each Season is a beautiful gift from Mother Nature. Each to be treasured, adored and worshipped for the joys, the highs the lows they bring.

my thoughts on the Seasons

Autumn

Winter

Spring

Summer

Copyright (C) October 2015 The Kentish Lass

 

Not Ever

I believed in the love I felt for you
I believed in the love you said you felt for me
I believed the missed heartbeat of the joy of seeing you
I believed

I wanted your touch
I wanted to feel your breath on my neck
I wanted to feel your heartbeat next to mine
I wanted

I needed what you offered
I needed the feel of you close
I needed to feel your touch. Your kiss. Your love
I needed you

Did you believe?
Did you love? Did you want?
Did you need? I know not, for you left
In silence

Can I forget you?
Your smile? your kiss?,
Your breath on my neck? the touch of you?
Not ever.

Copyright © Sept 2015 The Kentish Lass

Unrequited Love

Each breath she took, each heartbeat felt
Had become a breath she took for him
A heartbeat she longed for him to hear
Each waking moment was spent in hopes of him

Every dream, day or night,
A desire for him. A need of him
Every waking moment became
A thought of him, of her, of them.

The wind, the sun, the rain and the snow
The sea, the waves, the sand, and the pebbles
The moon and the stars all knew
He had become her everything, her all.

But she, she had become his distant memory
She had become a might have been
A passing thought, a blip nothing more.
No thought of her crossed his day or night.

Copyright © The Kentish Lass 2015

Another Dimension

She seated herself on the old familiar bench to rest a while, to be alone with her thoughts. The bench was hard against her back but it felt good supporting her weary bones. Sunlight seeped through the grey clouds, and a gentle breeze lifted leaves from the path, sending them scuttling hither and thither, swirling round her feet. She rested, head slightly tilted, one hand relaxed in her lap the other supporting her on the the bench beside her. If anyone passing by noticed her they would have seen the gentle smile curve her lips and the softening of her gaze.

She felt the tentative touch of his fingers on hers, the firmness of his other arm as he gently laid it behind her, lightly across her shoulders. She tilted her head resting it on his shoulder, seeking solace from the warmth there; peace from the sensation of the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. The gentle breeze floated across her and she felt his fingers caress her hair, the sun played across her face and the lightest of kisses from his lips touched her forehead.

Feeling the tension ease from her body, he continued to run his fingers through her silken hair. Bending his head he breathed in the scent of her, his lips brushing her forehead. He wanted so much to tell her how he yearned to hold her to him. How he craved the feeling of joy her presence gave him, but he knew she would not hear his words. He knew she would leave soon, just as she had the last time and the time before. A tear escaped and trickled down his cheek, hastily he wiped it away. He did not want her to know his pain.

The breeze was no more, now the wind blew across the land, whipping at her legs. With a sigh she stood to go and pulled her coat closer round hoping to hold his warmth a little longer to her heart.

He dropped his head to his hands and let the tears flow, wishing with all his heart that their time together would not be so short. Wishing that they, not just their hearts, could be together for all time, for eternity.

Weariness overcame her and she sat once more. Her body did not feel the seat, she did not see the churchyard, but she heard him weeping and felt the wonder of touching his hair once more.

He felt the touch of her hand in his hair and raised his head, to see her gazing into his eyes. Hesitantly, trembling with fear, scared she might disappear, he raised his hand and touched the skin of her face. He felt the warmth, the smoothness, the softness of skin he had thought he would never feel again and clasped his love to him.

Together in the same dimension once more

Copyright © 2015 The Kentish Lass

Miracles don’t happen

Why do I feel that if I reach out my hand I can touch yours?
Why do I still turn to speak to you when I know you’re not there?
Why do I want to dial your number knowing it’s no longer yours?
Will this empty longing ache ever mellow?
Will the pain of needing you near and not having you ever ease?
Will I ever grow accustomed to not hearing your voice, your laugh?

I miss you so much, too much for words to explain
I never knew I could feel so empty and yet be so full of pain
I never knew before how much silence can hurt.
I still see your smile and the joy in your eyes
I can still recall the feel of you near me
But these things bring me no comfort only serving to hurt me more

I want to shut the pain out. If I do then I loose you and I need you so
I wish I could remember you without feeling this gnawing pain
I want to remember the warmth of you, the love we shared
I want to remember everything about you and everything we did.
But I want to remember as it was, without this heavy aching need.
This dark feeling of empty despair
I want to smile again and feel the smile inside.

Copyright © Nov 1988 The Kentish Lass

Forever Mine

The gossamer brume swirling, twisting, invading;
Wrapping its damp embrace around all.
The chill creeps into me, as the ivy clothes your tomb.

Silence, seeping through my skin; soaking my soul.
Calming, silencing the frenzy of my mind, comforting
Thoughts of you in another time, another heart beat, surface.

In a blink of an eye you are here, beside me, fingers entwined,
Memories of you, our minds, nature beating in time with our pace
Memories of your smile, your touch, your kiss

Our dreams live on in my heart, always present
In that place you will be forever by my side
In that place I will forever read our lives.

The life we had, the life that should have been
All our hearts desire, our minds fire
The life that should have been, frozen in time.

The sea stole you from my arms,
She can not steal you from my heart,
Where you remain forever mine.

Copyright © 2014 The Kentish Lass

My Love, My Friend, My Life

How suddenly, treacherously the dreams can end.
He died without warning so far away,
We had no chance to say our farewells
My Love and best friend gone forever.
There’s no way of knowing if, for him, it was quick,
No way of knowing if he suffered too long and too much.

The pain I feel , the empty loneliness, never to see him
Never again to see his face, hear his laugh, his voice,
See the joy in his eyes, or feel his touch, his kiss, his caress
Never again to hold him in my arms or wake with him by my side.
I know this desperate ache for him will ease
I know life must go on without him and he would want me to be happy

But I don’t know how or where to start again,
How to quell the tears that come unbidden.
He was so much of my life and there is so little left without him.
He was the sunshine and the laughter in my life.
How do I find my way back to the sun?
The way out of this maze of pain and aching loneliness

To live without his love, his hope, his charm
I can find no purpose to my life
We needed each other, and I still need him
I am unable to find the words to explain
how great, how all encompassing my loss is
My Love My Friend My Life

copyright © 1987 The Kentish Lass

Without You

When you were with me and we two were one
I was happy and whole
Now you are dead and gone and I am alone
I am lost and broken

Without you there is no warmth to the day
Without you there is no meaning to being alive
Without you there is no life
I feel so empty without you

Without you there is no beginning or end of time
Without you each hour is the same as the last
Without you there is no joy in walking in the rain
The pain of losing you doesn’t ease

Without you there is no one to share the laughter
Without you there is no one to share the triumph and disasters
Without you there is no life in me
I need you to take away this ache

Without you wine is just an alcoholic drink
Without you a picnic is just a meal in the open air
There are no jokes, no teasing, no smiles, no laughter in the eyes
I need your smile, your being

Without your smile, without the look in your eyes
Without your touch, the smell the feel of you
Without the sound of your voice, your laughter, your footsteps
There is no light. There is no day without you.

Copyright © 1990 The Kentish Lass