of hedgerows swaying by the trees
The flight is almost over
from deep lows; weeping on my knees
Words have been read and written
the smitten vows
burnt in small degrees
burnt, without the smoke of leaves
Aiming for the settled
the settlement found me ready
Remember how my mother fettled
in posh houses, old grates to grieve
The weights of her love and affection
On her soft skin, in her soft voice
I have to write of those nettlesof being rubbed better
The stinging settled
by crumpled fresh dock leaves
a poem from the collection Some Trickier Poems - Love with Conflicts - available as a kindle download or library item by clicking here