Tuesday, 13 July 2010

i put on the brave face
and go about the mend.

yet still
the nightly nightmare brink,
the daily morning panic shrink

as i go around the bend.
and you,

a spectral lover in the sheets.
not here, not there,


my compass needle,

my will to love,

and true.

Wednesday, 7 July 2010

this fountain, crowned
with summer's regal splendour,

sputters on our bench.
in the shade of birds

fluttering as a sari in breeze,

you fan lashes
over impossible eyes.

watermelon bright, we go
meandering the locks

to aforetime
whilst i

slant up my maps,
tacked to plot the skies,

and am thankful
for the clarity

of our polite englishness.