Into this life as a gift
Although the giver is unaware
Take some time to wander
Go to the edge of the cliff
With each step, dwell, look out
Beware
As the ink flows
& the mind slows
Think of it
As the oncoming of thrift
Where to pare down
Is way beyond compare
So well to have escaped
The life so stiff
Just for that moment
I thought of myself in Versailles
Parading, posing
Strutting down the palace garden boulevards
A reasonable sign
That I can delude myself without much thought
I imagine a place I have never been
On the back of the sound of crushed sandstone
Under my brogue leather shoes
On reflection, a fairly swift reflection
I compared my ability to fall for the thought
The earlier fleeting thought
To be on a par with my desire to fall
For the love of a beautiful woman
However estranged the relationship may become
Vexed at the thought of time running out
I have contrived to take time
To let the doubts wash in and out of my mind
To vibrate the whole of life through my body
To have love
Gently and sensuously enter & soothe my soul
Also to read the sort of philosophy
That heads uncertainly
Towards the most certain of certainties
I ache to talk of love
To talk and write so amorously
As I did those few short years ago
The love is no less
In truth more love falls upon us each time we meet
Sometimes words
Are the unlikeliest, or most difficult of friends to find
In those early days it was spine tingling to catch the love words gushing
I pluck out the broken
Distorted feathers of arrogance and bravado
From the desensitised plumage of my youth
In their place I search for the contentment and the confidence
To become my self; a self of some intrinsic value
As I listen to the birdsong
& the slowly flowing water
The ease to be at ease comes more easily
As the tractor & the seed-spreader
Rumble and rattle over the arched stone bridge
I sense not all is at peace
If any bit of me was an artist
I would have set up my easel by now
To paint this history of trees
In their many stages of decay
& ushered-in new beginnings of life
Better still I would include the miniature train track; it's tunnel
That I imagine comes to life with steam whistles
& children joyfully cheering during the summer holidays
It is as though this place, once an industrial heartland
A forge with an illustrious past
Had nowhere to turn to for its future
Until leisure offered some sort of survival
The ravages of time & the recalcitrant northern weather
Have attacked the fabric
Of the once grand and flamboyant country houses
Their structure is in disrepair
As I tell you this
I am called upon, on the phone, to remind a younger colleague
That I have over forty years industrial experience
Which for his project may be useful
Although for my life, as a writer
Boils down to not much to do with love at all
The trees are still
Yet a time-lapse photographer
Could capture the changes in hue
From browns to purples to greens
He should be able to bring to life
The slow beyond compare
Birth, or breakthrough
Of shoots and leaves
He might also have the skill and patience
To show the diurnal patterns
Of rooks coming to roost
The vast skies opening and closing
In tune with the seasons weather
From the Collection One Crow to a Tree - Love in Separate Houses available from Lulu
