February And Beyond

Sunkissed

1)  Eleven O' Clock

Warm sun lifts me from scratty darkness,
all-night scrabble for orts of dream,
draws me downstairs
and out past
plucking-plaintive house cries for  labour,
deeps me to transcend the chained dog,
gardens down,
who complains more than a bad back.

She laves clear
my real self,
found in her deep-gleaned meditations;
and as worshipper-laureate too,
for she pays so well,
in instant contentment.

Crow's 'Kraak' is a bonus.
and, as shade draws,
to see the yew and juniper's dark bustling
in wind-sways
beneath her tierce de Picardie....

Clouds cover and conclude;
but the kiss is sufficient.

Now she re-enters
briefly for her bow;
and I throw as many flowers
as I can imagine.

........................

2)  Two O'Clock

Sun and
rain straight down
(from a fine showerhead)
filigree tingling my fingers,
and then it’s just a rumour
in a diffident gust
(inoffensive breeze):
evidence of patterned paper
and furred ink
is all I have.

Sun fades back
in ironic synchrony.

The pigeons are roofing the day
with long ridges of tired, tiled song.

That dog will shout till someone sees about her.

Is it a case of live and let bark?
At least this private crime is publicized.

And now, she’s shouted the sun back,
she might well deem in her conceit,
yelling in her chains -
self-centred and derelict a tragedy,
more than mine –

the sun with her calming hand on both
our unworthy heads.

..