Phase

Poem: Phase

I don’t sit for a meal

With a kiss my heart you did steal

I tend to graze and walk in a daze

Captured, enraptured,

I’m not going through a phase

Review: Phase

Oh, dear poet, I do beg to differ

You ARE going through a phase. It’s called infatuation. It’s intense, short lived and it will pass.

You will get through it. You will get over it and you will get on with it.

Your life that is!

You’ll reach a point where you will realise that life is too precious to be faffing around or fannying about. Don’t waste it!

There you are. Review done. succinct, to the point. I for one am not fannying about here.

Ooooh, flippin eck! I might hear you say to me dear reader?

Where’s your empathy? Bold and blunt? Well yes, I’m not holding back.

Ok, I’ve taken a breath and I’ve had a cup of tea. Dear poet, I’ll give you a chance here. You have become spellbound by this microscopic moment of intimacy. You’ve been bitten by the ‘love’ bug. A bit of an ouch isn’t it? But you believe you’ve fallen in love.

Step back and look at the bigger picture! You will annoy each other yes. Other people and life events will get in the way of happiness, yes. They will come first, quite rightly and understandably so. You’ll do yourself a favour by forgiving and forgetting certain things. Know what you are not prepared to tolerate. You’re not a mug! However, have understanding for those with a genuine heart. Remember no one is perfect, not even you. I’m telling you of this now dear poet before you could potentially be caught in a trap. Yes, you’ll no doubt have more writing material with lots of woe but is that the sort of poet you want to be?  Ask yourself, listen to your heart and head and yes,the two can work together harmoniously. Also do be understanding and kind to yourself.

Loving the rhyming of words ‘meal’ with ‘steal’   ‘captured with enraptured’

‘graze’, ‘daze’ with title of the poem ‘Phase’

These words all help to show the reader what the poet is experiencing, and no doubt others can relate to experiencing the giddy heights of falling in love. It’s what makes us human and a million miles away from ‘Artificial Dumb arse’ or how most are referring to it as ‘inteligence’ – oh how I laugh.

Real life is perpetual and thankfully so is real love. Love is broad but it does make the world go round. A great poem to question what is real. Only you dear reader, know the answer to that. Much love I bid you.