Wrap

My skin is cleaner

I kissed your lips

You smiled, joked

About my person

My profile is ungainly

I nestle up close

Your warmth, welcome

About my person

This poem is from the collection 

Placed

Seagulls make their call

All over that old song by Procul Harum

How close then the sea I ask myself

What distance to the gleam of salted water

Bentos Sketchbook lays on top

Of the ladies golden-handled carrier bag

The bag is embroidered, festooned with brocade

I wonder at the time taken in its assembly

Tomorrow it will carry beach towels

Suncream, a few very personal nic-nacs

To give the day a surety of purpose

On Wednesday next we will go home

This poem is from the collection 

Pond-life

Hesitantly I enter the pool

Take refuge on the inflatable ring

Paddle, with hands and feet

Side to side, end to end

Body and water become at one

I swim several lengths

First slowly, without cutting the surface

Then at pace; frenetic, wilfully insurgent

To be pursued, so I read, is to lose all fear

Thus encouraged I take a position at the deep end

Dive, or plunge; for at once I recognise

I am anything but a torpedo

This poem is from the collection 

Boys

As if more than the ether, sounds 

& methylated vapours evaporate

From the tables of nail varnish

Good vibrations

She’s giving me excitations

This poem is from the collection 

Stem

The water flows over

With a regular burble

Tonight it will be the cicadas

That we hear, but until then

To rub ones fingers on the lavender

Focus the camera

On the singular pinkish-red rose

That stands at the otherwise side

Of the sparkling, and inviting

Fusion-blue swimming pool

This poem is from the collection