Feels like home

I didn’t fall in love because I was lonely. Our love wasn’t born out of emptiness, and our connection wasn't a desperate attempt to fill a void, you became the answer to a question my soul didn't even know it was asking.

When you entred my life, everything changed. You illuminated my darkest corners and brought a sense of peace to a restless heart. What we share is no ordinary connection, it's profound, and I feel extremely blessed.

The first time I held you, my heart leaped, love isn’t about completing something that was missing, it's about discovering that one person whose smile brightens your morning, whose laughter feels like sunshine, the one I now cannot imagine living without, the one I never want to leave, the one who has turned my ordinary days into extraordinary moments. 

We both agree love isn’t about needing someone, it’s about finding that singular soul who feels like home. 

You feel like home. 

Dancing in Shadows

In the stillness of the cocoon,  

a fragile being,  

struggles against unseen walls,  

its journey carved in silence.  

Hands reach out, eager to assist,  

yet in the breaking of barriers,  

the essence withers,  

the wings, unmade,  

never to unfurl.  

The seed, a promise cradled in earth,  

bursts with potential,  

but patience knows no haste;  

the bud must meet the light  

on its own accord,  

or else it fades,  

longing for a bloom  

that never breathes.  

Awakening whispers linger,  

but consciousness sleeps,  

too tender for the tug,  

too fragile for the nudge.  

What is true must emerge  

from the depths, unforced,  

each heart its own compass,  

navigating the dark  

to find the radiant dawn within.  

Some things dance in shadows,  

and here, we learn to watch,  

to hold space without grasping,  

to honour the secret rhythms  

written deep inside.  

By Maggie Martin 

He makes my soul dance

In a dance of souls, silence speaks,  

Intimacy blooms where heart meets mind. Not in touch or fleeting peaks of pleasure, but in the echoes of thoughts combined.  

Your beauty goes beyond the skin,  

In exploration of uncharted thought,  

deep into depths of consciousness vast, together we've found what cannot be bought.  A partner who ignites the quest for wise. A heart with compassion, a mind that can soar,  In the realm of ideas, together we rise.  

Nothing compares to unravelling mysteries,  With someone who sees the layers of you. A journey beyond the tangible realm,  Where hearts and minds dance a rhythm so true.  

Your beauty dazzles with grace and with glow,  Yet it's your brilliant mind that I cherish most,  A spirit ignited, exploring the skies, a boundless embrace, it’s our love we toast.  

So let us ascend, beyond limits we know,  in the vastness of thought, our intimacy thrives,  Together we’ll wander where few dare to go,  With communication and love to make the flame glow.  

By Maggie Martin 

RIP Riccardo

A man called Riccardo died today while holding my hand, with our eyes locked in silence.

In that moment, I watched his world fade, life can change in an instant.

I tried to breathe life back into him, but the depth of his gaze whispered a final goodbye. Numbness wrapped around me and I felt the weight of a life lost too soon.  

In the fragility of existence, cherish each heartbeat, love with intensity and appreciate every breath.

RIP Riccardo 🙏 

In times apart

It doesn’t matter what you do each day,  

I long to know what stirs your soul,  

If you dare to chase the dreams that call, 

And find the courage to seek your heart’s desire.

It doesn't matter the years you’ve lived,  

I want to see if you would risk it all,  

To look like a fool for love,  

For the wild adventure of simply being.

It doesn’t matter when your stars align, 

I wish to know if you’ve faced pain,  

If life’s harsh winds have opened your heart,  

Or if fear has kept it locked away.

I want to know if you can sit with sorrow,  

Yours or mine, and let it linger there,  

Without a need to hide away,  

To fade it, fix it, or run from the weight.

I want to see if you can embrace joy,  

Yours or mine, and let it lift you high,  

To dance freely with wild abandon,  

No cautioning whispers to dim the light.

It doesn’t matter if your stories are true,  

I want to know if you can stand  

Against judgments cast from sidelines,  

And be true to yourself, even when it stings.

I want to see if you find beauty in the imperfect,  

In the cracks of a mundane day,  

And draw your strength from its presence,  

Even when the world feels gray.

I want to know if you can face failures,  

Yours and mine, and still shout to the sky...Yes! to all that life may throw,  

 And still feel love for you and I.

It doesn’t matter where you rest your head,  

I want to know if you can rise,  

After nights of grief, weary and bruised,  

And still hold steady to the needs of love.

It doesn’t matter who you’ve known before,  

I want to see if you’ll stand with me,  

In the centre of the fire,

Brave enough to face the heat of life.

It doesn’t concern me how you were taught,  

I want to know what nurtures your spirit,  

What holds you up when the world falls away, 

When silence fills the empty spaces.

Can you be alone with your thoughts,  

And find joy in the company of you

And in those still moments when time stands still, 

Whisper love softly, for the two of us.

I want to know how strong's your heart, 

Not only when we are together, but in the times spent apart.

By Maggie Martin 

Tell it to the bees

In the stillness of morning, a keeper approaches the hives,  her hand gently rapping on the wooden frames,  

drawing forth the quiet buzz of bees, who gather in curious throngs,  ready to hear the weight of life’s changing tides, a parting of souls, a new life’s arrival, the heart's tender ache or joy.  

Dear companions in gold, listen closely to what I share, we've lost a loved one, whose spirit now dances among the stars,  and in this moment of sorrow, I ask you to bear witness,  

to keep their memory alive within your sacred hive.

With the sun warming the air and the hum of wings in reply,  she speaks of their laughter that filled the air,  light blossoms even in grief, and in this age-old ritual, a bond is reaffirmed, for the bees hold our stories, our whispers, our love.