Twin Souls

Were I your sister I would comfort you,
for you are lost and alone
crying out for direction
with none to lean on.

Were you my brother I would cherish you
take you to my heart,
nurture you, teach you
guide you home.

Were I a stranger I would ignore you,
pass you by, let you bleed
in streets where people go
but never meet.

Sadness falls upon us both
for the world is cruel
and you and I are apart
but twin souls.

poem by Ruth Walters
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A Lost Soul

When the world changed around her she hid in the labyrinths of her mind.
She fled down tunnels, old pathways of misspent youth.
She fell deeper into places she'd once been and it hurt.
She revisited old enemies and lost friends she'd forgotten.
When she came to the end of the tunnels she hit the wall.
Reason came to greet her just a tad too late.
The night whisperer licked her cheek,
gobbling her up into damnation.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Connecting

Page 1, Personal Column

Miss Smith
1 Poets Lane
Waxing Lyrical
Watford.

If I could touch your soul with my emotions;
let my inner feelings be undressed

and if by chance you saw me as a lover
instead of just a simple loyal friend.

But then, these things are just imagination.
My love for you must stay closed, under wraps.

But should you read these words and feel like minded
please write to me at the above address.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Schedules

I don't like schedules,
they interfere, control,
they grate.

My friend thrives on them,
insists we arrive by them,
never a minute late.

I don't like schedules
I bin them,
incinerate them.

There they can wait
pining to be adhered to
until they rot.

Schedules aren't nice.
not a healthy way
of life.

[...] Read more

poem by Ruth Walters
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A Change of Heart

I threw in
face cream,
slippers,
tops.
I added a few
sexy frocks.
My daddy's picture,
old emotions,
fears, anxieties,
hearts devotions.
I threw in letters
I had written,
and little things
that had me smitten
and then I sat
upon the lot
and tried to get the
thing to lock.
I should have
known,

[...] Read more

poem by Ruth Walters
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My Sunset

The sun slid down among the trees
and the moon shone big and mellow
as she her playful youth let go
her green eyes turning yellow.

With thunderous crack and mighty roar,
her world crashed upon the floor.
and though old playmates came to call
she couldn't raise a single paw.

Then fur balls replaced Sunset's smiles
as once bright eyes, grew old and tired
so huddling up by winter's fire
all spent and breathless she expired.

poem by Ruth Walters
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Photographs

As a child, I didn't like photographs,
I remember seeing them
all lined up on the mantle shelf,
browning with age.

Do you recall the black and white ones?
When they fade it seemed to me,
the souls of the people fade too
and that scared me.

I'd never owned a camera
but a friend bought me one recently.
It sits in my bedside drawer
with its battery running out..................

I don't want my soul to fade.........

poem by Ruth Walters
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All screwed up

I don't like schedules,
they ruin everything,
trying to take control
and interfere.

My friend thrives on them,
insists we arrive by them,
not a minute late
or else she'll scream.

I'm throwing all schedules
in the bin.
They can sit there
rotting, pining to be adhered to

Schedules aren't
a healthy way to live,
they make me
nervous, edgy, tense.

[...] Read more

poem by Ruth Walters
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Outrageous

I went to church without knickers,
I said my hello's to the Vicker,
the service, it could have been worse
and I didn't care much for the weather.

I wanted to be so outrageous
and wanted to be so risqué,
however it would have been better
had I'd told everybody that day.

If I'd told all those prudish old men
that my knickers were home in the bin
that my bottom was bare
oh how they'd have glared
and my funny bone tickled again.

poem by Ruth Walters
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A Stray Kitten

In the spring he toyed with her
her ball of string was long
she tossed it high and higher
gamboling along.

In summer they were lovers
passionate and hot,
her ball of string was short,
she'd found a lover's knot.

By Autumn love had cooled
she found she'd lost allure
The string she'd played with
frayed and tore away.

By winter she'd been ousted
she shivered in the snow.
Her ball of string was cut
and she, a little kitten, froze.

poem by Ruth Walters
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