Fear

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Fear

From an oily puddle of the darkest dark
Dripping hands rise to grip your heart.
Eyes grow wide as a face appears
The deathly skull of the ancient one, Fear.

Fear awakes in yellow fog and mist
Around your limbs it entwines and twists.
Till you stand immobile, unable to run.
Frozen in place till Fear’s deed is done.

Flickering lights on the moor at night
Change to demons outside your sight.
Footsteps heard on the rocky Tor
Fuel your nightmares forever more.

Ghastly shapes and shadows of doom
Transform even the friendliest room.
Torture and horrid dreams of death
Challenge your senses and take your breath.

Fear can bind even a brilliant mind.
Holding back, trembling, afraid to be kind.
For kindness kills the fearsome doubt.
Suddenly there is nothing to worry about.

Fear can not resist the game
Two humans play, it’s always the same.
Conquering Fear is not done alone.
It takes two hearts that love has grown.

Fear can not live where love is confessed.
It can not continue its frightful quest.
For words of love dissolve Fear’s hold.
Two true loving hearts are forever bold.

Window

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Window

I look out the window with the broad windowsill
Wide enough for a calico cat, very still,
To stretch out comfortably watching the trees.
Thinking cat dreams of catching birds and bees.

The old window ‘s divided into twelve little panes,
Framing the garden and the gravel lane.
Wistful I wander in my restless mind
To far away places and other times.

Each pane shows a piece of a puzzle green.
Grasses, flowers, and trees make a scene
Tranquil and serene , so welcoming.
The trees and the lane seem to beckon me.

I hear the crunch of a boot on gravel.
The scene in my mind begins to unravel.
Inside this chamber dim and warm
Is where I find my longed for home.

Light through the window shows your form and face,
In one of the window panes perfectly traced.
One pane shows you looking up happily.
Another the empty lane calling to me.

A country lane is a dangerous thing.
You will never know what tomorrow might bring.
For today I will turn my face from the light,
Seeking the comfort of a windowless night.

The Cure for Loneliness

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years

The Cure for Loneliness

The rain on the roof makes a tinny sound
Like thousands of pins on the way to the ground.
I can not nap or work or eat
While thousands of pins may endanger my feet.

The wind whines and calls my name.
If I do sometimes answer I am not to blame.
I need to hear the sound of my own voice
Responding to my name, I have no choice.

Lonely thoughts and lonely nights
Echo in darkness and dim all the lights.
Surrounded by people the wind’s all I hear.
You are not whispering in my ear.

So alone in the midst of a crowd
I want to shout and cry out loud.
But all I seem to do is disappear
Into the background when people are near.

I suppose the cure for loneliness
Is to gather courage and befriend the friendless.
But courage fails when you are away
I’ll just talk to the wind for one more day.

Thoughts of Home

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted by M.Vernet
The Missing Years

Thoughts of Home

The cafe’ is dark and the talk is light
My mind wanders till I am out of your sight.
I am a wary stranger to all I see
Except for you sitting across from me.

A foreigner on a foreign shore
Striving for understanding and more.
Will I ever feel at ease away
From the home I left on that fateful day?

I watch you speak so fluently.
Sparkling eyes, laughing so easily.
You feel at home where ever you go
I envy you more than you’ll ever know.

Home should be right here by your side.
I truly am happy on our riotous ride.
But now and then I long for the sound
Of homey songs and friends all around.

Why do we ever start to roam?
Away from all we love and home?
Always wishing and wanting to return,
Yearning till the heart slowly burns.

The cafe’ is quiet and the hour is late.
I’ve lost track of time, days and dates.
I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go,
But I’ll hold a hope for home tomorrow.

Circles

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted by M. Vernet
The Missing Years

Circles

Circular thinking is driving me mad
A thought of you and my heart grows glad.
Yet wait for the turn and worried I’ll be
That you’ll circle back and stop loving me.

Circular rings upon our hands,
Secrets wound in our wedding bands.
Why does a circle mean eternal bliss
When it’s mostly formed of nothingness?

So strong the pull of your circular orbit
I, your moon, circle never to quit.
It seems we have been this way before
Our souls have circled each others orb.

Circular thoughts, please, help me set down.
Placing peace on  my head like a crown.
A circular crown of spiraling vines
Binding me in an endless circle of time.

Romance Abounds

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Romance Abounds

Candles lit in a swiftly darkening room
Bringing new light to the dusky gloom.
A wine bottle cooling on the window sill
Two goblets sparkling ready to be filled.
Wine and candlelight seek to enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

A table laden with savories
Is waiting in the warm room for me.
A fire dances in the glowing grate
I am ever so grateful I was not late.
Savories and firelight seek to enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

You come to me with ease and grace
A look of wondrous love on your face.
I moan a sound of gentle surprise
When I see flames flickering in your eyes.
Grace and flickering flames enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

You take my hand, put a goblet in it
I did not notice the pouring bit.
For I was floating in a moment timeless
My body alive but utterly mindless.
Goblets of floating time enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

When your lips at long last meet mine
I am drunk from your attention, not wine.
When you pull me along with a smile
All you have done is more than worthwhile.
Lips that taste of smiles enhance.
Methinks the night abounds in romance.

My Friend

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

My Friend

It is so forlorn to say goodbye
To a friend well nurtured who satisfies
The quintessential definition of friend.
All good friendships too soon must end.

I leave you with a bit of my heart.
My wistful smiles and jokes as we part
Will linger still in your soulful eyes.
Friends like time so swiftly fly.

I am glad I knew your clever ways.
Your memory I will visit on quiet days.
Remembering the words you shared
Each gesture and thoughtful tug at your hair.

I will treasure each and every scene.
Every pronouncement and every dream.
My Friend, I will always keep you near
Alive in the distant laughter I hear.

Trust

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Trust

In the dark deep night of a Winter’s day
I ponder thoughts that happen my way.
Warm by your side, yet a chill draft comes
Making me think of the nature of love.

I do not trust that we will be perfect
That our love we will never reject.
I know we are human and likely to fall
If put on a pedestal haughty and tall.

I do not trust that we will never fail
Our bodies are wicked and tend to be frail.
The best intentions come crashing down
When piled by two lovers and sloppily bound.

Trust can be a most  flighty thing.
Trust hovers about on flimsy wings.
One thing we know, there can be no doubt
We trust in each other to work things out.

Love Is Not Fair

From “The Poems of John H. Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Love Is Not Fair

Love is not fair, and lovers will find
It is better with love to be tolerant and kind.
Forgiving the faults of the human being
Who all of your faults is constantly seeing.

Love is not fair, it is never equal.
Your hope in your heart, your heart on a wheel.
Spinning and rolling day after day.
It seems things never go your way.

Love is not fair, it will turn on you,
But your lover will be there to comfort you.
Grateful, you will lean and be held.
Growing stronger as the two of you meld.

Love is not fair, but it is so right.
Seeking a hand in the dead of night.
Taking control then giving completely.
Helping and guiding each other tenderly.

Fair and Right

From “The Poems of John H.Watson”
Reprinted By M. Vernet
The Missing Years 1883 – 1886

Fair and Right

This incredible world holds many things.
Wondrous awe it daily brings.
On this ancient stage where life lifts the curtain.
Nothing is fair and that is for certain.

Young people die in old people’s wars.
Lovers are parted by slamming doors.
The poor slave in the rich’s homes.
Heartbreaking words fill every poem.

The world may not ever be fair,
But take a bit of solace here.
If you do what is right rewarded you’ll be.
Seek to do right and despair will flee.

Do good and be right to all you know,
Life will goodness your way throw.
Reap the benefits of a steady mind.
To all in the world be equally kind.

Fairness will never be found if sought.
Righteous anger should never be wrought.
To look for fairness is utterly fruitless.
Be right in your actions never the less.