When we first met, I’d forgotten my laugh,

My self-worth was slashed from a whole to a half,

I couldn’t see past all the torment and pain,

To want to start living and giving again.

Then you tiptoed in on an indolent breeze,

And I quickly fell prey to a pleasing disease.

I felt the first rays of sun in my heart and my soul

I felt a real measure of refuge, control,

You reminded me that I would thrive on a smile,

That laughter alone made this world seem worthwhile.

You brought a new meaning to the glory of life,

My saviour, my lover, my soulmate, my wife.

© Caro Ness 2015 

After the rain,

The world has been scrubbed clean,

No trash or grime to spoil the scene.

After the rain,

The world is forged anew,

Nothing here to spoil the view.

After the rain,

The world’s a brand new slate,

An urgent need fulfilled to just update.

After the rain,

I feel refreshed, alive,

And my world reveals how to change and thrive.

© Caro Ness 2015  

A row of lifeless, leafless trees,

An ashen sky, a skein of geese.

Scraps of colour, summer’s residue

No warmth otherwise in this Fall view.

© Caro Ness 2015  

When we first met, I’d forgotten my laugh 

My self-worth had been slashed from a whole to a half,

I couldn’t see past all the torment and pain,

To want to start loving and living again.

Then you tiptoed in on a westerly breeze,

And br

The road to market’s long and hard,

And I hold my horse in high regard,

So we always stop at Headway Pool,

For a well-earned drink and to cool

Off.

© Caro Ness 2015 

I was walking in the park last Fall,

There was no one else around at all.

The leaves lay thick upon the ground,

The silent stillness was profound.

There was a sadness in my situation,

I felt a sense of desolation.

An empty bench, an empty park,

No friend to make a quick remark,

Or joke and give my heart a lift,

I was lost at sea, just cut adrift.

There was a melancholy undertone,

I’ve never been so quite alone.

I felt disassembled, torn apart,

As Autumn crept into my heart.

© Caro Ness 2015 

Bruges, a place of style and charm,

That beguiles, bewitches and disarms.

Buildings balanced on the smallest ledge,

Crowded up to the water’s edge.

Reach your home by canal or road,

Your senses switched to overload.

© Caro Ness 2015 

We run the gauntlet every single day, 

Shepherding our charges down the highway,

We have to guide them from pillar to post,

To find the spots they like the most,

But also to travel from field to farm,

Ensuring that they do not come to harm.

© Caro Ness 2015 

My dad and I are buskers,

We play on 2nd Street,

We’ve regulars that watch us,

Hum along and tap their feet.

My dad is on the lead guitar,

And sometimes mandolin,

But my sax is sexier by far,

When he counts me in.

People love my hat and suit,

They call me sweet, they call me cute,

But when I really start to play,

Boy, I take those folks away,

My music makes your life complete,

With the first few bars of Baker Street,

I may be just a little boy,

But my music brings such joy.

© Caro Ness 2015