A Poet and Didn't Know It

While spring cleaning, I recently stumbled upon a journal that I kept for jotting down poetry.  Although most of the pages are as crisp and white as the day I bought it, I did find a few literary masterpieces amongst the grocery lists and random phone numbers that I thought worth sharing. 

Enjoy!

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Happy Birthday, Dad

From your son on the threshold

of your 67th year.

A journal.  To write.

May your mind remain clear.

A poem.  An essay.

Perhaps even a sketch.

Your reflections on life

would not be a stretch.

Should these pages stay empty,

it would really be sad.

So go forth, be creative...

And Happy Birthday, my Dad!

- Jonathan King

I wrote and inscribed this poem on January 25, 2014 on the first page of a journal that I gave my dad for his
67th birthday. My father has always had a penchant for being creative and he used to write and sketch in his younger years; something he may have inherited from his mother as my grandmother was also known for artistic talents. I hope he enjoys filling the pages!

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Summer

The smell of burning charcoal
Wafts from the gentle, afternoon breeze
As the bright green leaves of the neighbouring oak
Flutter softly over the verandah.

Summer has arrived.

And I am happy.

- Jonathan King

I wrote this on June 23, 2013 while sitting on my back verandah, enjoying the first weekend of summer.

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Addiction

It now has a hold on me.
 
I've passed the point of no return.  I feel it's grip on my mind and my soul 
each and every day.
 
I don't want to live without it anymore.
 
It's what keeps my sanity....or at least what I believe to be my sanity.
 
It scares me when I can't have it.
 
I crave the feeling that it gives me.
 
It allows me to escape from reality.
 
I am an addict.

- Jonathan King 

I wrote this on October 29, 2006 shortly after realizing that I had not replenished the coffee supply; the coffee bean can maintain a vicious hold and when it becomes elusive, it will take you to a dark and lonely place. I have a caffeinated monkey on my back.

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I Wonder...

I wonder what it would be like

to look into your eyes and see

your smiling face, your gazing stare

looking back at me.

I wonder what it would be like

to listen to your voice and hear

your gentle words, as we talk,

so very sweet and dear.

I wonder what it would be like

to stroll hand in hand

along the shore, beneath the moon,

barefoot across the sand.

I wonder what it would be like

to hold you while we kiss,

embracing you so closely,

I'm sure it would be bliss.

I wonder what it would be like

to say "Good night" and be,

together 'til the sun comes up,

with you cuddled next to me.

- Jonathan King

I wrote this on July 24, 2003 and had completely forgotten about it; as it has been almost 10 years since I wrote it I can not recall who or what was the inspiration.  Perhaps it was just a day dream.

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Caught

It was your long, deep breaths
that caught my attention.
Across the sofa in the 
flickering blue light.
You look so relaxed
and peaceful.
Your glass still clutched
in your hand.
You are so amazingly
beautiful.
How long have I been 
watching you? 
Ice settles in your drink -
Your eyes flutter.
Damn!
Caught!
Wait...no...you drift away
again.
I lose myself in my thoughts.

- Jonathan King

I wrote this on February 12, 2006 but for the life of me, I can't remember for who I was thinking about at the time.  I debated whether I should share this piece but after reading it a few times I decided that I really like it.  So to whoever caught my heart, if even for a brief moment in time, I wish you all the best!

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Not So Familiar Anymore

This drive, we've taken 

A million times before.

Your feet resting on the dashboard,

Tapping in time to the music.

It feels so familiar.

Here we are...

That place where you 

Always excitedly shout out its name.

I always laugh.

But this time you don't -

You forget.

I let it pass...

It doesn't feel familiar anymore.

- Jonathan King

I wrote this on March 4, 2006 after taking a drive with a good friend and realizing that life and friendships have a way of changing whether we like it or not.  I'm learning now, after garnering some life experience, to embrace these changes instead of of shunning them.  Change is simply a part of life.

********************************************

The Hand Holders

Eyes roaming;

Searching for something familiar.

"Where am I?  I don't recognize these things."

Safe in her arms among familiar voices,

A sense of security overcomes him.

The flickering light is peaceful

As it dances on the ceiling.

"The hand holders...

I've seen them before"

- Jonathan King

I wrote this on June 17, 2005 shortly after meeting one of my closest friends and (then) neighbour Lesli, and her two-year old son Owen.  Lesli had dropped in for a visit one evening with Owen, and I wrote this poem after watching his eyes follow the shadows on the ceiling as the flame flickered in a candle holder that resembled a "circle of friends" holding hands in the fire light.  He looked so peaceful as he snuggled into his mother, knowing he was safe in these strange surroundings.