Touching many
or touching none,
the joy it brings
just touching one –
with a torrent of words
cleverly writ,
from the coolest phrases
in ancient Sanskrit
or perhaps a scribe in
a guttural foreign word
is the sweetest thing
anybody ever heard
And the English language
with it’s redonkulous rules
where no matter how good you are
it still makes you a fool…
sometimes
© Kait King, 2016
I breathe feelings
I dance emotions
and coddle dreams
I rap time
if it’s mine
and wander the roads
of forever
I trickle into hearts
sometimes I’m poured
sometimes it’s voracious
sometimes
bored
The mystical flow
of the words that glow
in the firelight
faces wait
breath held in
anticipation
waiting on
the words of love
so soft
so real
so true
I feel them
Can you feel them too?
© Kait King, 2015
My Mum and Dad in Queen St, Auckland 1956
I walk down the aisle
my eyes passing over cards
words springing out
about Mum going
the whole nine yards
And I stop to read a few
The words just seem
insipid
when I think of you,
Mum
A journey into the intrepid
Four babies later
and over 60 years married
Through wars, tonsillitis,
tears and love you tarried
Now here I am
a mother too
And these words I say: “I love you”
Have also come
from my son’s mouth
and heart
But to say them to you
doesn’t even begin to start
to express what a fantastic Mum you’ve been
You’ve done a good job,
I’m a good human being
So I tell you you’re an amazing Mum
and people are proud of the job you’ve done!© Kait King, 2015
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