Parental Alienation

Parental alienation
Two words now banded round
By men and women both alike
Who have lost and not yet found.

The pain and disappointment
The crushing sense of loss
The hints of inequality
And feelings wound up cross.

The fathers missing children
And mothers all alone
The sense of ostracism
Cutting to the bone.

The hatred and the venom
The bitterness a twist
Vindictiveness apparent
Circulating in a mist.

So why are individuals
Ignoring such a call
And treating children just like pawns
With such emotional outfall?

And why are adults failing
To communicate and care
To think ahead, to draw a line
Remembering the love that once was there?

The love that made the children
The children in the frame
The picture all about them
Not about parental blame.

For blame will meet avoidance
Avoiding what is true
Truth honours the responsible,
With responsibility anew

Respect in the equation
Aside contempt and strife
To upheld the children’s voice
And ultimately their life.

Parental alienation
Two words of disrespect
Of lost responsibility
Leaving lives so sadly wrecked.

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The Divorce Letter

It ended in the letter;
The letter on the mat.
Not in a hug, or kiss or wave
But simple written fact.

The crest upon the letter;
The letter on the mat.
Revealed the court’s authority
Decisive with impact.

The stamp that sent the letter;
The letter on the mat.
Was franked and just so clinical
No tears or heartfelt act.

The writing on the letter;
The letter on the mat.
Was typed in neat Times Roman font
That left me feeling flat.

Hope severed in the letter;
The letter on the mat.
With searing pain that broke my heart
Dissolving love’s lost pact.

Hole in my Heart

There’s a hole in my heart enlarging each day we are apart
Gnawing its way deeper and deeper into my being
With a yearning of our imposed separation depleting my spirit.
Akin to winter storms ravaging the landscape leaving it a barren wilderness,
I miss you in the chasm of the long cold days and the endless passage of time
For the hours that pass between our talking
Seem like an endless, hopeless devoid vacuum;
The bottomless pit of unfilled longing and love in sight but out of physical reach.

Yet when we talk again the sun rises
And summer returns with life shoots springing in my soul,
And the warmth of the sultry weather sweeps through my body
Raising me from my melancholy to renewed heights of passion and love.
For to be with you, in voice, in mind, in body and in spirit is completeness
And the hole is filled and overspills
And a mountain of concordance rises in my midst
Eager to never abate for love is now and now is plentiful.