Category Archives: Wears my ring


She listens.

I know she does not believe me.

Her eyes are an ocean of blue-grey sorrow.  She watches me flounder in the waves.   I am lost in her chilly sea. She will not throw me the lifebelt of a word.  Her disbelief is fathomless.

Everything I say now will taste of salt.

Her silence is eloquent



Photograph stolen from Yunie666


Posted by on August 21, 2012 in Still Life, Wears my ring


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This Heart

This heart has weathered bleak winters

When the cold sun refused to break cloud,

When a black dog chewed at my fingers,

When leaving made my cry out aloud.


This heart has suffered cruel springtime,

When the green pulse mocked me with life.

When the promise of renewal was broken,

When expectant sparks all failed to ignite.


This heart has been wild and romantic,

This heart has borne time and change.

Yet if this heart should ever lose you,

This heart will never beat boldly again.


This heart has endured empty summers

When the dull heat tormented my days,

When the thunder drowned out the music,

When my carnival was ruined by rain.


This heart has braved the dying autumn

When death danced in the flickering leaves,

When mist obscured all I had longed for,

When lies left me nothing to believe.


This heart has been sure and certain.

This heart has always resisted the chill.

Yet if this heart should ever lose you

This beating heart will forever be still.

Copyright the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph by ASilentMelody


Posted by on August 19, 2012 in Poetry, Wears my ring


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When I don’t even try

Many years ago a girl with a halo of golden curls smiled shyly as she strummed her guitar.

On a velvet evening when we could still be called young she sang this Joni Mitchell masterpiece for me in a voice that was imperfect, fragile and beautiful.  She had learned the song because she said the man featured in it could have easily been me..

She tells me, after all these years, that I haven’t changed.


Woman of Heart & Mind by Joni Mitchell

I am a woman of heart and mind
With time on her hands
No child to raise
You come to me like a little boy
And I give you my scorn and my praise

You think I’m like your mother
Or another lover or your sister
Or the queen of your dreams
Or just another silly girl
When love makes a fool of me

After the rush when you come back down
You’re always disappointed
Nothing seems to keep you high
Drive your bargains
Push your papers
Win your medals
Fuck your strangers
Don’t it leave you on the empty side

I’m looking for affection and respect
A little passion
And you want stimulation-nothing more
That’s what I think
But you know I’ll try to be there for you
When your spirits start to sink

All this talk about holiness now
It must be the start of the latest style
Is it all books and words
Or do you really feel it?
Do you really laugh?
Do you really care?
Do you really smile
When you smile?

You criticize and you flatter
You imitate the best
And the rest you memorize
You know the times you impress me most
Are the times when you don’t try
When you don’t even try


Posted by on August 6, 2012 in Music, Wears my ring


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To the end of love

I have said goodbye to them all.

To Jenny, to Beauty, to the woman with the moon in her eyes. To every possibility of a lover enchanted by my words. To the walled garden, and to temporary friends. And to the desk within earshot of trains.

It made me think I was in motion when I was not.  Perhaps it is why I stayed so long.  Too long.

I drove home with the sun at its highest, with the top down and my guitar and half a dozen suits on the back seat.  The wind ran its fingers through my hair less tenderly than the girl had done when she’d lain in my arms for the last time that morning.  It had been such a lovely evening, such a perfect night. It has gone forever.

.She did not cry.  She still believes.  Yet it is over.

And now, I cannot decide if this is the beginning of an end, or the end of a beginning.

At the moment it feels like freedom.

I am home.  With the one who knows me best.

She will dance me to the end of love.


Posted by on August 5, 2012 in Still Life, Wears my ring


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The sun was still captured in her golden curls.

She was facing him in the grand-georgian-dining-room-made-recently-modern.  Her eyes were bluer than the washed skies and yet as grey as Welsh slate.  Her smile was as warm and easy as the soft early evening.

They raised glasses to whatever point in their long history the day represented.

She, the least materialistic woman he has ever known, fell in love with a limited edition photograph hanging on a nearby wall.  It was a stark black-and-white capture of a place of almost-pilgrimage they both knew well.

He sought out the restaurant manager and negotiated a price.

She shook her head with delight as they carried it to the car.

Sunbeams danced from out of her hair and lit up the coming night.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

I found this lovely art on the web. I cannot locate the painter. If it is yours, I apologise for the theft and will happily credit you or take it down


Posted by on July 28, 2012 in Still Life, Wears my ring


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But Still

But Still


There is a distant echo of your touch

Upon my skin

The faintest of memories

But still

A remembering

Of something soft and special

And intimate and close

And of days when we

Had more than most.


The passing years have been less kind

To me than you

These deep cobwebs of age

But still

This desire burns through

To see you dressed in evening clothes

And your blue eyes darkened

And you gliding like a dream

Proudly at my side


This tired and quiet heart still quickens

When you are close

Triggered by your body’s scent

But still

It makes me catch my breath

Like no other has ever done

And can ever do again

And I ache for you

The way I did back then.


Copyright the author writing as Romantic Dominant


Because, despite all my considerable foolishness, she is the first and last and everything in between.


Posted by on July 18, 2012 in Poetry, Wears my ring


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English Rose

Her blue/grey eyes know him.

Better than anyone.

It is early evening on a Friday.  He has driven for four hours and he is finally home.  Rain is dripping solemnly from the trees.  The garden is lush with green leaves, and is beautiful with the forest of plants she has nurtured with an easy hand.

The house is chaotic with change and newly-returned, still newly-adult, children.

She smiles at his noisy entrance and sympathises with his journey.

She touches his face and makes him tea.

This song is for her.


English Rose by Paul Weller

No matter where I roam
I will return to my English rose
For no bonds can ever tempt me from she
I’ve sailed the seven seas,
Flown the whole blue sky.
But I’ve returned with haste to where my
Love does lie.
No matter where I go I will return to my English Rose
For nothing can ever tempt me from she.
I’ve searched the secret mists
I’ve climbed the highest peaks
Caught the wild wind home
To hear her soft voice speak
No matter where I roam
I will return to my English Rose
For no bonds can ever keep me from she.

I’ve been to ancient worlds
I’ve scoured the whole universe
And caught the first train home
To be at her side.
No matter where I roam
I will return to my English Rose
For no bonds, nothing and no-one can ever keep me from she



Posted by on July 9, 2012 in Music, Wears my ring


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