My boy Marcus
He got wed today.
I love him dear.
May they know
The gaze of faithfulness,
The embrace of tenderness,
Creativity and mutual admiration,
The enfolding of endless forgiveness,
The strength of patience and understanding,
That rare and mysterious oneness born of true love,
A content that frees to share with others,
Healthy bodies and babies.
Amen.
Who with her tender love
Wrapped all our peaceful days
Whose trust in God secured our darkest nights
And all our fears with hope dispelled.
True virtue, purest innocence and faith,
For all that folly had its little place,
Our every moment filled with energy and hope,
Catching the vision of those higher realms of joy,
As yet unseen – yet truly to be found.
.
All her lights burned bright
Against the gloom in every place –
Corners, sought out by envy and deceit,
Yielded to the floodtide of her benison
That shrunk their weapons to mere trinkets
Too worthless to be held.
.
One whole summer’s warmth
Lay in her one embrace
And as unclouded as its sky
The pledged devotion of her gaze.
Nor did that heart deny one pulse of love
Those hands one comforting caress.
All poured forth – the purest stream
Of inexhaustible delight in us.
.
How much laughter – how much mirth!
Unspoiled by hurt or hate –
For every motion of her being was to bless
And bless again
She did not bear us only in her womb
But all her days.
We were her chief delight
As she was ours.
Love leaves no creases
Half a pint of lemon juice,
Half a pound of potatoes,
That’s the way that baby goes –
Motor bikes and rainbows.
Flowers and faces
– wide-eyed wonder.
Mummy’s bag
– mischievious plunder.
Dad’s come home
– thrown up and under.
Kiss in cot
– then thumb and slumber.
Glasses-grabber
Nice-book-nabber
Piano-basher
Soap-sud-splasher
Potty-percher
Scuttle-searcher
Slop-swallower
Midnight-hollerer
Nose-nipper
Radio-Times-ripper
– Ah, but –
Eye-appealer
Heart-stealer!
A simple place – where
Warmed by sun and love,
As on a mother’s lap, aproned with flowers,
I sit;
Lulled by the soft songs of summer.
And all around me
Kentish air is quick with scented sounds
Whispering all that England was
And all I hope ’twill be
Here laughter and good fellowship
Grow easy with the Hazel, hip and haw.
Good food is on the plate,
Thankfulness in the heart.
Here sleep is rest
And waking – more.
If I had said “I find myself enjoying D.H.Lawrence”.
My mother would have looked anxiously for a vaccine.
My father regarded him with such absolute abhorance
That even the letters D and H were faintly obscene.
An open window always gets more shutting than it warrants
I suppose to keep the furniture and fittings clean.