Saturday, 31 December 2016

Simply Saturday - As Time Strolls By

Let's make 2017
the most caring year ever

As Time Strolls By

Beating Time

Never trust one who keeps time
And chains it to belief
That losing seconds is a sin
That pausing silence, is a thief.

Never trust one who has no watch
To mind the passages of time;
Who notices nothing and can not keep
From the disasters of their crime.

Only trust those who savour seconds
Minute memories but keep the beat;
For they are the one who taunt what threatens
To pound their rising above defeat.  

From all at WildeHeads
We wish you a safe and healthy.

Sunday, 18 December 2016

Sunday Sounds

Between Christmases

I aim a smile,
Baring teeth in greeting.
The return is fired
And ricochets around
The company assembled.
This is Christmas after all,
This is what we’ve been waiting for.
Across the walls yet more greetings,
Abrasively scratched cards
From relatives collected,
And seldom or never talked about friends,
And others hhardly ever known or met,
And here for a moment a sense of regret
Loiters with intent to do better.
Newcomers positioned on cushion laden seating
Are plied with traditional warming drink
And here we are ready
For the next thankful interruption from the door.
The procedure is fixed in tradition,
The routine ritual is old and needing updating,
The meaning lost.
Here I have gathered about me
Those who I knew much better
All of a month ago.
For then, between Christmases there dwell
Those I love.
Between Christmases at least

They have the Christmas spirit.

Sunday, 11 December 2016

Sunday's Softly Settling

The Ghostly Crowned Thief

Skating blithely, 
Sliding, slyly
Crystalised snow shines bright.

Etched in filigree, 
Dusting the canopy
Carpets of frozen balm.
Ordained in a shimmering calm. 

Softly settling on petal and leaf
Winter huffs in like a ghostly crowned thief
Soothingly singing to freeze
Damaged life and severed decrees.
Hush up your frantic old fuss.

Slow now, and yet in a flush
Store what you can, and watch your own breath
Rise in a fog of laughter in gusts
Tinkling joy as onwards ice thrusts

Those who are weary 
Hear hush-a-byes cheery
See nothing but twinkling delight.

Friday, 9 December 2016

Friday Frosts

Closest Of The Close

Because they are friends,
I can take some space.
Because they are relations
I can walk away
And be myself for a while;
Buy you, closest of the close
Feel betrayed, take offence
Because I can not share
My need for some solitude.

Yet sometimes I need to be alone,
To realise and consolidate
All I have, have learnt and known;
To appreciate and mind
And remind myself of what it is to love
To find myself again and again
Beyond all doubt loved.

Closest of the close,
For all the world
I would not willingly hurt you,
Cause you pain
So say that you still love me
So I may return again.

Mel Dixon

Sunday, 4 December 2016

Shiny Sunday

Catching Hold

Yes – love, love
For though we know it pains
Not to denies us the very best of all life’s richest gains.

Yes – hope, hope
For not to sullies days
Which otherwise would profit us in much more fruitful ways.

Yes – give, give
For not to kills us all
Taking can not cure us, nor prevent a fall.

Yes – trust, trust
For not to stifles hope
Making it impossible to give, to love, to cope.

Mel Dixon

Copyright remains with the author

Monday, 14 November 2016

Moonbeam Dreaming, Monday Meaning

The Moonbeam

Into the frozen darkness

A shaft of blue
Fingered the walls
Silently crawled
Soft edged up the bed
Bathed the sleeper in its shroud
Kissed her head
Lingered for a moment or two
Closed her eyes
And ere its silken sheet withdrew
Caught her sigh.

Sunday, 13 November 2016


"The correct response is silence"


It’s been a long time
Since I heard your voice
Ringing in my head –
A long time
Since the sky caved in
Announcing you were dead.
I welcome you but warily,
Fearing what you’ll say.
Gradually I’m comforted; assured –
You’re but a thought away.

Our daily vow through kinship changes
And just as when you were living;
Few seldom see our ranges
But we remain for giving.

Copyright WildeHeads

Saturday, 12 November 2016

Saturday Senses

The Legacy

Though I don’t fully understand
I am proud of you;
Though you feel burdened by my expectations;
Despise my authority as having no worth or foundation,
Defy my demands on you as being irrelevant to your world –
Other worldly –
You are so like me.

You, my child are my legacy;
A future for this family;
In my image shaking
A product of my making;
In you I wanted to create
A better version than of late.

Copyright Mel Dixon

Friday, 11 November 2016

Eleven Eleven Eleven

Is This Love

Is this love that courts disaster
Spouts its woes and grievance shares
And in deceit claims be master
Over foulest vice and cares.

Is this poison that spills its gasping
Pouts its anger and feeds on glares
And in consumption fills its asking
Matching blows with artful flares.

Is this wisdom that speeds faster
Shouts its pain and sorrow wears
Lies and hits on poorer bastards
Salting sores that it still bears.

It is reason that shines past masking
Flaunts its gauntlet and risks its fares
And in its colours muted asking
Turns triumphant as its dares.

Copyright WildeHeads