Winter & Summer

Sun streams on the yellow wheelbarrow

Onto the garden of fallen snow

Between the sorrow and the sadness

Lies the joy of light and dark

Lies the thoughts

Of that day in the park

Already unable to settle

So feared of the next moments

That that moment passed

In abstensis

Ring of air

Afloat on the surface

He went on to dare

You were caught by her

Imperious gestures

To suggest

That anything was possible

If only our time would last

Wind rattles through the beeches

We travelled, as with the spark

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Summer & Winter

Snow flurries

Give the time

To search out retreats

Pick a collection of poems

Written in the summer

Beside a Cornish sea

To have found such time

Although you are away

You have given this space

The hope of contemplation

A garden and a window

Warm fire for the winter

Closer to a life

That bathes in Brahms’ music

A life that took us to the water

To nights spent in lively bars

Where we drank deeply, and

Engaged in rapturous conversation

Love then

Is this continuum

From a silence to a cacophony

Sweet whispers to glorious yells

All as all, always and alone, and

Both part of the congregation

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Yesterday’s Hug

All to gather in

Hold back the tears

Be steady

Only at the edges

Of the extreme moments

Are we touched

By our instinctive resources

Just as

The oarsman

Balances on his boat

Which carries only flowers

Sat alone

I listen to the Lovely Thunder

Thinking

How cold today’s leather settee

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Support

I sense your fear

Your fear of my giving up work

Your fear of taking on yet another dependent

The fear becomes a silence between us

Unable to elucidate our thoughts

How much easier, or not

If I was of independent means

The fear turns into action

As you check off my letter of application

For a job that I do not want

A job that is possibly beyond me

A job whose only attraction is its local vicinity

I wonder if the fear is your fear

Is it that you are afraid for me

Feared that I will do naught

Yet if we talk, although

We don’t often talk on this matter

We end up talking about the money

Not that I want to be an ascetic

Nor give up our worldly possessions

Neither be unable to go away on vacations

It is that I am beginning

To put a very high value on my time

On my time with freedom to do with as we wish

I want, I want, I want

As much as any spoilt child wanted

I want time back, time for me, time for me & you

Time for me, for you, and for our love

Love of a life more gentle

Even love that’s a little bit sentimental

Somehow it is easier to put it on the page

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Skin Tight & Passionate

He might name this

A cotton wool sky

Except that it is, as if

 

Her saturns rings of fire

Were not already burning

Burning down his present horizons

She might sing along

To those Little fluffy clouds

Except that it is, as if

His knives had not already

Sliced through her canvas

Cut right in, to her sodden thoughts

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links