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One More Moondance, My Love

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN:https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-eight-09-06-2020

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us, 
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension 
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every 

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance 
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. It 
...

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artistsloversmoonsingingsong

Take me to the doctors

Take me to the doctors

Ill take pills

Ill take them all

Just take me to the doctors and make it go away

 

I will have 50 diagnosis’

Take the pills 

Till I get psychosis

Just take me to the doctors

Make it go away

 

Ill write letters every day

talk about my feeling

throw my life away

Just take me to the doctors make it go away

 

Ill stop eating if I h...

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medicalsongtherapy

Jetty Song

entry picture

Her fingers tracing mine
Lily danced me out of the garden
those green eyes brimming lively 
with purest abandon
Then barefoot on the boardwalk
her summer dress riding high
she leapt onto the jetty 
and gestured to the sky

We let our tanned legs hang below
as we bottomed up the bottle
the air was hot and heavy
the sea around us peaceful
There was lust upon our minds
as a veil upon a ...

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desirefollylost lovelovesongwisdomyouth

The Hours That Blackbirds Keep

When you told me we were done

That you were thinking of leaving

I tried my best to mend my ways

For dread you'd leave me grieving

 

I've lately grown used to keeping

The hours that blackbirds keep

Awake by your side till dawn breaks

A condemned man waiting for sleep

 

On tenterhooks I just get by

Waiting for your decision

Blackbirds sing their songs

With exqu...

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blackbirdsrollercoastersleepsongyo-yo

I Want To Hold It Close

That scenic chorus paints pride blended tears

as suspended droplets thrum euphoria

those watchers notice, its nuance foreign.

They’ve never heeded- never recognised

the harmony befriending delicate words

that welcomed wrung emotions on inches.

rare colloquial feelings pouring traces

left to the table.

The playing record that tugs at my arm

to appear closer, pulling at ...

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alison moyetfeelingspoetrysongthe rarest birdsthoughts

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