Anew

I came here again today
To see your sculptures in the garden
To see your words and photographs in the gallery
To see your tools and your templates in your workshop
To see your tiny bed and to see the schoolchildren
Using your immensely varied body of work
For their day of inspiration and sketches

And then I saw the Abutilon leaf floating
In the rain filled bowl of your River Form
It had been blown in by the breeze from
The tree further up the banking
The whole thing looks settled now
And I would especially like you
To know that so am I

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Here

Yes here
Here in the Barbara Hepworth
Sculpture Garden in St Ives

Sat yes sat
Sat on the white seat
By the white table with the blue umbrella

Which shades the light and which will
Will most certainly
Provide shelter from the certain showers

Meanwhile I sit and peek
Peek through the arcs
And the domes and the spheres

Looking as if hearing
As if hearing a symphony playing
Before a lady from my old school in Penistone

Sits down beside me
And asks quietly
For any news of my older brother

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Carbis Bay

I dozed and I daydreamed
How pleasant it was too
The skies were tranquil
My half closed eyes
Pictured them violet
Violet and blue

The waves rolled over
And over again
A surf so steady so true
I closed my eyes fully
And thought
Why not why not you

To be then at one
As the world drives
Drives straight on through
To be the captain or the caller
With wide eyes opened
Opened onto divinity's crew

If only so true
If only for you
If only if only we both knew

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Balcony

Take in the sea view
Waves lapping onto clean sands
Take in Oscar Wilde's The Soul of Man
Waves lapping in clasped hands

Take in the square upright back
Of the dirty plastic rattan chair
And the call of the gull
The staring eye the invasive glare

Take in the yacht moored just offshore
Bobbing up and down to the tune of the sea
Take in the steady stroll of the holidaymakers
As they step along the waters edge simply to be

Take in the racket not the racquet
Of the boom-bass up and down in and out fitness fanatics
Bouncing to the scream of the over enthusiastic instructor
Who seems to have forgotten just how early in the day it is

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Window Cleaners v Rotten Window Frames

You showed me the photographs of the storm
Which happened the day before my birthday two years ago

That day the substantial granite toppings to the sea walls had been forced off by the violent vigorous and immense spring tides
This day I rose early to sit out on that self same terrace to listen to the soft lapping of the gentle waves
That day the front windows were broken and caved in by the lashing of the fierce ferocious winds
This day a slight breeze takes up the aroma of the lavender from the large contemporary plant containers
And carries it effortlessly to my nostrils
This place pristine organised refined by years of practice and the care to want to do things absolutely correctly always

And then that other place where nothing quite worked
Where every day a few more points of fine detail had still not been attended to
Yet a place whose receptionist thought all was well
Which it wasn't
Which it isn't

Between the two places we were marginally excessive
Though how else to behave in the sunshine and in the rain

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