Reflection

I refuse your offer
Of that which is rightfully yours
Knowing that there is nothing
You desire more
Than that I should have it
Unless it is to see the pleasure
That I will get
From your enjoyment
Of that which I have refused

you refuse my offeR
of that which is rightfully minE
knowing that there is nothinG
I desire morE
than that you should have iT
unless it is to see the pleasurE
that you will geT
from my enjoymenT
of that which you have refuseD

Snare

If I sent you a million pounds

You would complain about the envelope.

Love for you is not giving

Nor even having.

It is wanting.

Love, in you, is wanting.

Severence

There was never anything.

It was useful – briefly.

I opened a few doors

That’s all – nothing more.

Very little

As you now know.

And – anyway – past.

Gone, over with,

Yesterday, a memory.

Already my face fades

The occasional, half-hearted

Nostalgic effort

To stay in touch

Is a chore.

Don’t smile at me

Don’t look at me

Don’t speak to me

Don’t humour me

Don’t make an effort

Don’t bother to come

Don’t try to help

Don’t make allowances

Don’t think of me

Don’t stay as long with me

Keep walking away from me

Look over your shoulder less often

Soon I shall be out of sight

My voice lost on the wind

The path back to me

Impossible to find

Do not fear –

The quicksands of time

Will embrace me.

Canticles

I would not love except our love be giving

Not just between ourselves – but all the living.

All other ways will leave us sad and grieving

That path alone, the path of true receiving.

————————————————————-

This love came uninvited, free and uncontrived.

Nor could I stem its flood when once it had arrived.

Just as the light of dawn bids darkness rise and fly,

So love with its bright beams fills all my inward sky.

————————————————————-

If not incidental music to the play of love,

Passion is parade.

But if a vista from the mountain walk of love,

The heavens invade.

If not sown and nurtured in the fields of love

No growth, no flower.

But if a towering roller in the seas of love,

Then life, then power.

Old friends

 

We pause briefly, for twenty years,

In mid-sentence.

Interrupted by two sons, a mortgage,

An Open University degree,

A hernia and early retirement.

Then, in the same breath (but in the past perfect!)

Complete it..

Eyes

Here words can slip the leash of sound

And speak from soul to soul.

Though thoughts be vast, yet can the eye

Encapsulate the whole.

On Hearing the Election Result – 1992

    Oh England! England, may you be forgiven

    By all the poor, the weak and the distressed.

    You yielded to the blandishments of Mammon

    And stoney-cold the heart within your breast.

The Key

B sharp, B flat,

It matters not a joteral.

Don’t be A prat,

B natural.

Sometimes

Sometimes I lean against a wall,

Weary with longing.

Closing my eyes, I go inside

Where thoughts are racing,

Slowly to elbow them all aside

Till you I’m facing.

Then, eye to eye, with hearts’ low call,

We smile, belonging.