When I think of what we were - everything -
and I gather what we now are - nothing -
it's all the in-betweening that is sad.
If we play the cine backwards, so strange
to see how greatest treasure comes of bad -
return the breaking horse to meadow range.
Climb down the wave to deep serenities
make love:- joy to subside to joy subside;
forgetting all we knew of life's decrees,
parallel two decades of time and tide.
Leave me on the computer on Facebook,
staring at a button never to press.
For who would set white sails for love's meat-hook
towards a severance of deep distress?
..
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Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
