For Daf

For Daf

 

the clematis climbs in a hug

around the bushes and shrubs

and rises in a triumph around a conifer

like applause

A curtain call for this morning

while twin jet engines grind the air

on an ascending scale away from Heathrow

with a vow toward wherever it is they are promised

but down here, in our garden, I feel no resentment

not for the noise nor for those high flying dreams

because I am bound in this sumptuous scene

happy in May sunshine with cool air

on my naked skin,  newly cut grass glistening in the dew

and nothing much else to do

except perhaps to plant a kiss

on the cheek of a favoured friend

who has picked today, of all days

to celebrate

And so

And so..jpg

I recognized him at once

From the portal into that room

His expression came to me like sonar

And so I sat with Bob

On the edge

Of a chair beside his resting place

And we stroked the air

That lay between us

Half trying to embellish history

Knowing that the cells that made him

Have turned against him

False friends in a spiteful retreat

And now I am home

The echoes of that sighting

Fade like all we have ever touched

I fear to phone

In case he has gone

Yet we know he will

So transience, as ever

Has the upper hand

And I am left with what I have left of Bob.

Absence. #Nationalpoetryday

Absence

Absence

Absence

 

Every day. A call to arms

Such devotion. Such energy

Oh how I wish that this

Would all come naturally

Without prompts, self-doubt, recrimination

For I am so transparent

So wanting. So close to the wounds

Of a life that slips inexorably by

It should be marked. Arrested in flight

And the beauty noted

Pressed between the leaves

Of a book that seals

Filaments and membranes

That contain the essence

Of me

 

But. And this but is big

For clarity to put a sheen on the scene

We must be immersed

In the life of the soul

And take a keen interest

In just how much we can give away

Like a smile or a hug

When indifference would normally win

Because we are casual. Thoughts slip

Best intentions drift. Sink in the ooze

Of  footprints left in migratory soil

8.8.14

Mum on a beach

8.8.14 Funeral. Mum.

 

Surely today words won’t fail

When duty calls I shall salute

That passing stage

A passage of time spent

When honour marks the memory

And tears are a Godly stain

On something deeply held

Ineluctable

Love and all it contains

Does not go away

Never will. Never can.

So that which fades

Will flicker sometimes

And a brightness that is real

Will shower me again

So you move on

But not away