Love Over Our Rainbow

In her arms I find salvation, and long for the embraces of a difference,

As she nurtures paternal, protective measures, and expresses this outwardly;

And inwardly she beats an immeasurable love that has no pretence,

As her feelings are an open book for all to read with a heed of empathy. 

We are seen, and very heard, and with strong arms we fight the battle of existing,

And with blows – soft and hard, we try and disregard negativity with positivity,

Yet how low can you go, and how high can you fly, to reach your wanting

Of grasping where you want to be, as together we endeavour precariously. 

Storms that flow, sowing their drips and drops into crops that leave a mark,

And when this harvest is observed, a trail is seen on each cheek, a peek

Into her suffering as the long, lonely, wet nights turn into the days apart,

And the stresses show, and the torment renders her superficially weak. 

© Andrew Stevenson 02/02/14

 

A re-edited piece.

 

I wrote this while suffering with bipolar and being locked up in hospital.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.