Step

I go there

I go there

I end there

I end there with you

I smile

I laugh

Also I cry

I end there with you

I had to be alone

Life was too too intrusive

But I like your picture

I always go there with you

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Bedroom Reflections

A sink

With a mirror

Another mirror

For make up

One wall of wardrobes

One with a full length mirror

A bay window

To one side of the bed

A Mark Rothko print

On the opposite wall

Above the king-size double bed

A row of cupboards

All of this for certainty

Among the uncertainty

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Feeling

Outcast

I have cast myself out

And I am slowly forgetting

How to reopen the door

Bitterness

Helps me to be bitter

Humour

Helps me to smile

Happiness

Follows swiftly

As I sit, secure

In my meditation chair

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Proof

I started writing

Seriously

At the same age

That Shakespeare died

We were both fifty-two

He was a Stratford-On-Avon

And London lad

I have travelled further than he

All the counties of England

As well as many European cities

Have felt my footsteps

Also the line of my pen

But can I be certain

That he had not been there

Before me

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Hook

Every girl

Needs a name

As she becomes

Woman

One or two

Would do

But neither

To be honest fit

So take time

Search high and low

Hither and thither

Until you fall firm

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