Worse

So close

Together

Yet so far apart

How distant

The worlds

Where souls don’t meet

A purpose

For the action

But what purpose

A reason

For the posture

But what reason 

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Food And Drink

It wasn’t the West Indies jerk chicken

Or the October birthday marker

Although that played a part

Especially when followed by

The nitrogen enhanced ice-cream

We had walked through the park

Then alongside the canal

Until we reached the outpost

Of the nation’s capital city

Where the glass asks us to reach for the sky

It wasn’t the ride

Out to our boat hotel

On the edge of the financial quarter

Where buildings are deserted

At both ends of the day

We had travelled from the north

To meet with friends and children

Or just to be together

Visiting galleries and museums

To wash ourselves in beauty

It wasn’t the Italian restaurant

By the lights at Piccadilly

Although that plays a part

Especially the shared tapas style

And the £37-00 glass of Barolo

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Finite

The hair is like

A ragamuffin man

As if the scarecrow

In the Wizard of Oz

Not that he cares

Or at least

He pretends not to care

With his air of superiority

The blue sky

The silver white clouds

The wind, as near and far

As the eye can see

Lampshades

Photographs

Double-glazed clear windows

With a gleam and a sparkle

The old clock

Does not tick nor tock

Neither does it chime

At every quarter of the hour 

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Apprenticed

Contemplation, meditation even

Gifts the time

To rehearse one’s art

In the spirit

Of loving kindness

As if to sojourn

In the meadow

Or saunter

Over the sand dunes

With love in the ascendency

There to find

The lover

The poet

The song

Of all mankind

Settled into the hollow

Sheltered by humanity

From your worries

To practice your work

In readiness for the future

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Split

Two hearts

Equally broken

One hurt by the other

The other torn

By the same one

One stands

Wobbly and tearful

The other

Lies on the floor

Writhing in pain

Red eyes

Are streaming

As cold voices

Struggle

To scream and shout

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