62

The cafe, all to myself
It is how I hoped it would be
Except there is no verandah
Overlooking the rippling water
The coffee is neat, and the cake is ok
It isn't brilliant, but it could be

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61

Big blue sky
Golden, Tate & Lyle, sunlight
The farmer, with his muck-spreader
Has been here before me
To the top of the hill
Long shadows, dry stone walls
A caravan in a cold cold field

Down the hill
Round the corner
To see that long stretch of water
To the maker of puddings and cakes
Stones, and walls, and geometric columns
He strolls past fire pits with frozen fingers
Talks of snow and ice, beside expectant geese

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60

One day, by the water, by the woods
Trying hard not to think
Of being beside the sea, on the beach

To drink in the nothing of nothingness
Silent in these silent times
Of no one here to share the day, or night

It is a chosen celebration, a rehearsal of sorts
Force beyond the force
Which settles, without thought, for the status quo

So with a pen, and a pencil, and a closed
Or ever so slightly open mind
Let the weather join in, and the love be with you

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59

Ann, and Anne, and Christabel-Maybelline
How to know what it might mean
Lynn, and Linda, and the younger Rosalind
Looking back how might it seem
Joy, and Julie, and Mary a once May Queen
I was so vibrant, I was a teen
Hazel, and Yvonne, and that flighty Christine
I was unsure, was this a dream
Jane, and Jill, and the vivacious, yet older Irene
What should I say, how to redeem
Vicki, Valerie, and the lively vicars daughter Jean
A test of memory to know where I've been
Desiree, Dinah, and way too easy, one-night Celine
Flowing so easily in a semi-consciousness stream
Pamela, and Susan, and the impressionable Angeline
All of this before my interview with the college dean
Carol, and Karen, and the debutante Jacqueline

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58

Three vestiges of sleep
To steep, half-dreaming, half-waking
Shaking round the youth I keep
Half-forgetting, half-forsaking

All alone and all together
Oft misused; best, yes, forever
Now's the time, now or never
To trace the steps, reboot the leather

Time is time, and time is ticking
Reset the alarm, rework the knitting
Were we stood, or were we sitting
At the party in the midst of middling

Another neat volume, of plain pages
Another fresh mind, one that still rages
All the while he seeks out the sages
Living inside the teenage cages

That we might reach who knows where
To find ourselves without a care
Live a life to stop and stare
Will he doubt or will he dare

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