Spa Courtyard

Space

Space, tree

Space, tree, air

Music

Music, tree

Music, tree, air

Glass

Glass, tree

Glass, tree, air

Wall

Wall, tree

Wall, tree, air

Space, music, glass, wall

Tree

Tree, air

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Probe

I walked

I walked within you

I chalked lines on the wall

For those days you were not there

I had hopes

High hopes within you

I could, in truth, not cope

Without you standing there

I saw light

Bright light within you

Yet, out of sight

You scared me by not being there

I had time

Time a plenty with you

Yet time so so slowly passed

With your absence still anywhere but there

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With Compliments

Thunder

Right above us

Thunder

Ten miles or more away

Thunder

At the end of summer

Thunder

With slowed down music

Thirty-seven years

Of perpetual motion

Champagne at the ready

Corks popping

For my birthday girl

Also at the ready

White buildings

Clay tiled roofs

Early evening sunsets

Late on in life

In Ibiza

Among our fifteen minutes of fame

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Storm Like 1992

Then the rains came

With the lightning

With the thunder-cracks

Huddled in the lobby

Ready to make a run for it

To the distant bedrooms

A riotous crash of thunder

I jumped backwards

From the balconies bannister glass

A silent flash of light

Across the grey-white skies

All the while the rain was relentless 

Taking me back to that time

In the hotel in Jamaica

Where the rain was falling like curtains

Drawn down from on high

Gifts, to the mystics, to the ghosts

Who had called natures forces upon us

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Taste

There is a breeze

Also across the tops of the palm trees

The piano bar music steps, strolls, meanders

Smoothly over the seafood restaurant tables

The water is cold

Not bloody-cold, as in Kos I grant you

But the pool is cold nonetheless

For such a wimp of a man as I

The machine made Americano

Is bitter, not sweet, nor delicate

Fortunately it is only 0.15 litre

So not too too much to drink, or to throw away

There has been rain

I don’t think I told you

It was on the way here

As we walked up the hill

But we pressed on

In the almost certain knowledge

That the sun would shine again

That the good times, they would return

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