This is the house of homes
this quiet chair
patiently waiting
in the morning sun
This is the house of homes
this patch of grass
inching up to the
shaded hydrangeas
This is the house of homes
this Persian mat
supporting my yoga pose
and sleeping dogs
This is the house of homes
this cup of tea in a
mug with blue etched flowers
warming my thoughts
This is the house of homes
holding the things I love
nurturing the dreams
that grow beneath its roof
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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We are all so scared
of endings
We fear the end
instead of enjoying
the moments in between
the tree that stood and
watched the scene unfold
the little commas
the full stops
the birds on the wire
the places where we
drew breath
the sun that slipped
into the ocean
exclamation mark
I have realised
that endings
are just a point
in time
the one day
the little black
pebble
the moment
the moon
rising behind
the tree
But all that went
before is still there
It still exists
in the whole of
what was
The invisible
can never end
The bonds
between people
unseen
but there
the love
the sun rising
out of the ocean
Always
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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You walked me home
in the loamy light
the rolling hills
the giant trees
the ferns
that hid in
mossy places
You walked me home
on cloudy days
the beating rain
the burning sun
the wispy breeze
that came from
unknown places
You walked me home
the diverted track
the rocky path
the snares that waited
the obstacles that came
from unexpected places
You walked me home
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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Silence
I normally love it
But not the silence
of you gone
There are things
I wish to tell you
Small things
inconsequential things
that mean a lot to me
but mean more
when you have heard them
The sound of your laughter
processing the big, small,
happy and sad
But I cannot speak
with you
People tell me you
will know
But I want to connect
with the spark in
your brown eyes
where I see the glint
of my own spark
looking back at me
Where my inconsequential
achievements are seen
with the gravity of your love
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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Otters hold hands
when they sleep
They don’t want to drift
away from each other
We drift into sleep
without the fear
of water washing
us away
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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I remember you
when the way to your heart
was on the dirt road
The trees of fear
that shaded the way
The rambling dust
where the horse
of your imagination had
carved a path
And the babbling brook
of your hopeful dreams
flowed down to the horizon
that held your north star
That old dirt road
has been tarred by experience
it is a thoroughfare of many now
those who have come to
depend on you
The built up road
with the apartment blocks
of adulthood
Yet the other day
I stumbled on a daisy
in the chink of the cement
and I saw you running
in a field with the sun in your
hair and a dandelion in your hand
Child of my soul.
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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You are so much older than me
you think you had a life before me
that your childhood scrapes
young lost loves
your traumas and your shame
are hidden from me
You are so much older than me
you think you knew of things
in times when I was not here
that you had some preceding wisdom
I knew them too
you need not speak of them to me
I knew you then
from the other side
I whispered into your bones
long before I came to you
I sighed life into your
aching joints of love
I watched you patch
your wounded heart
I knew exactly who you were
the moment that we met
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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Instead of writing a poem, today I painted one…
I call it “Irises Learning to Fly”
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It’s time to say goodbye
I am turning my light
to scorch the darkness
my faith
is yet to reach
I can only see the shadows
of what will soon appear
They loom as shadows often do
in the deep of the night
not quite the shape of what
they will become
The dim light flickering from its
new found angle
shapes them as something else –
perhaps smaller than what they are
or out of proportion to what they will become in the light
when they are fully revealed
And these are the things I know
before they are unveiled in their fullness
I will laugh with delight
when my soul meets those shadows
and they turn into nothing I would have
expected them to be in the darkness
They will be illuminated as
fragments I had lost when I came from that star
that flung me into this life
The dust of the universe finally moulded
Into the shape it needed to become
© Tanya Southey @ Ordinary Poetry
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I take words
from my solar plexus
from my gut
where I have stored you
with my intuition
I take words
from my solar plexus
words that are smoothed
of bile
of regret
of loss
They are the beads
I pray for you on
I take words of you
I string them around
my heart
© Tanya Southey @Ordinary Poetry
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