Old Friend

You left me while I slept old friend;
I dreamed a dream that did not warn me
When you replaced our gift with an ugly box
Filled with bad feelings,
And the colour of my words were
Changed from kind to black
In the twisted channels from
My mouth to God!
Kindness became a sin somehow
Although debt and lack of love
Were the real evil.
But in your blindness you walked
Toward the light-
Tread carefully old friend;
I hope that light was not fire.

Dedicated to a lost friend. F.

(C). 2012. Andrew Grant. All rights reserved.


stained glass eyes.

My physical form was
Suspended in surface tension;

And my spirit floated
On heaven’s eternal waters;

Admiring God’s design
Mouth a forbidden worship;

Mezmerised by whispered prayer,
Like dust captured in a sun beam.

Words as sweet as wine
Washed a blessing over me.

There sits an open book
Seen through stained glass eyes;

With lines too small to read-
A story I shall never know;

Offered up to heaven
In the closing of a door.

Sometimes we forget….

Sometimes I take you for granted,

Sometimes I reflect your exquisite symmetry.

Sometimes you warm me, and

Sometimes I am scorched by your

Unpredictable fury.

Sometimes you fall silent,

And sometimes we forget who we are.

Sometimes I long to be reunited,

And sometimes feel that only death will do so.

Sometimes we forget the time we have shared

And sometimes all we are aware of

Is the endless time we have together,

Sometimes we are so small, and

Sometimes we are afraid;

Afraid that life is not right here

But somewhere else entirely.

Sometimes we just intuitively exist;

I by your side- a symbiosis.

Sometimes, love;

Yes, sometimes, above all, love-

The kind of love between two celestial beings

That even the universe cannot comprehend.

(c) 2011. Andy Grant. All Rights Reserved.

You Cannot Change Me

You cannot change me
For I am of stone.
Igneous, volcanic, mighty;
And you are not tectonic.

You will not erode me
For I am of stone.
And I shall stand firm
Despite your raging storm.

You cannot sculpt me
For I am of stone;
Dark and granite-hard
Impervious to your hammer’s strike.

Your touch could change me
For I am sedimentary;
Your love is moulding me
Your kiln is warming me.

I am The Kiss, I am Eros
I am bronze and clay;
I am not what I once was
But I am adored- I am not all stone.

(C) 2012. Andrew Grant. All rights reserved


Thanks to everybody’s very positive, welcome comments. I must make time to read some of your work and reciprocate:):)

The Haunting Owl

She sweeps across the night so still
Her poise and power, grace and skill,
In lamp-light moon and ground so bright
Hunts this creature of the night;
Her silent flight is as a sigh
And life burns wild in piercing eye.
With dark of wing and flash of white
This killer comes in dead of night;
A ghostly shadow on silent wing,
And song of myth that she does sing.
A winged beauty of the dark
That goes to sleep with rise of lark.

My Divine Sun

She is the sun and I the earth.

At the centre, through mathematical

Unconscious precision, chaotic accidental collision.

Particles of endless time attached

Through an infinite love;

Attracted by incomprehensible forces of nature.

She is me, and I her; my unpredictable accomplice.

Ninety million miles apart

But her touch is ever present.

She has sustained me from before time;

With her immeasurable power and energy.

She is the light on my face, the smile in my soul

And the fearsome forces flowing through my heart.

My Amazon, my Nile.

Our love is beyond time, outside of time

A different understanding of time;

On a scale immeasurable by

The science of men searching for ‘truth.’

Her light, my darkness, me, you-

Revolving, evolving, glowing, growing-

Hot, cold, smiling, raging,

Saving, destroying, healing, breaking,

Learning and teaching.

Dance in her light, like me

Victim of her inescapable beauty.

I am eternally transfixed, sustained,

Passionately grateful for our accidental bond.

(C) 2011. Andrew Grant. All right reserved.


Mesmerised by emerald eyes
And iredescent skin.
Those eyes, a pool of fire flies;
I wanted to dive in.

Dazzling shine of chestnut hair
With hypnotizing scent
That hair, with scent of meadow air
Lord let me repent!

I cast my eyes upon her breasts
And perfect button nose;
With perfect breasts she has been blessed
My voluptuous English rose.

A graceful turn of graceful hands
Accentuate expression.
Through hands and time will fall the sands
Of my lamentable obsession.

(C) 2012. Andrew grant. All rights reserved.

Remembered Virtue.

Upon petals of hearts desires, I lay,
Lifted high on vivid wash of violet palms;
Faces, skyward, worshiping the perfect summer day.
Through the sweeping long grass of temptation;
Into her eyes burning with emerald fire
As they cry a tear of heaven’s dew which
Drops like a pearl on the lips of nature’s sweetest dream.

On, to woodland shadow, a blindfold to my
Conscience in this weak veil of sleep;
Led smiling, dreaming by the hand to precipice of forest shade.
Falling into the cold touch of mist upon my skin,
Far from distant mellow fields,
I gazed back upon remembered virtue.

(C) 2012 Copywrite. Andrew Grant. All rights reserved.

The Rain Drop.

My wind burned cheek,
A winter’s window pane.
From tearful eyes
Rolls down a drop of rain.

Through fragile glass
The view, a vivid grey,
And every drop reveals
The bleakest day.

So, down I lie,
I’m at my journey’s end;
Swim sweet Ophelia
And let my sorrow mend.

(C) 2012. Andrew Grant. All rights reserved.

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