Treading on a forest floor

That broken branch

That second chance

The bilberry bush

That sudden rush

Walk on waves of expectation

Talk brave of imitation

Smokes are slave to infiltration

Choke and crave for intonation

The furrowed brow

That wonders how

The here and now

That sudden bow

Weave dreams of duplicity

Heave cream on complicity

Leave means leaf omnisciently

Grief reads quite implicitly

The weathered corn

That wakeful morn

The tortured scorn

That fated first, early born

Buy books for memories

Cry with rooks in cemeteries

Sigh looks for lots of sympathy

Liar’s hooks brought empathy

The snowbound hill

That evening thrill

The glass of wine

That love was mine

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Weekends and vacations

I leave myself hung so far out

I could be placed there to dry

But instead, if my feelings 

I don’t let you astride

If my thoughts and hopes

Schemes and dreams

I do not open up for show

Then what will we bestow

What could we have become

How would we be the same

If nothing to do with being up above

If nothing to do with being in love

First thought would be nothing at all

And if that’s what it is, that is the call

But this is no ultimatum

Although a reply would be nice

This is no whinging sojourn

Into some soliloquy

I could bring you flowers

But that’s not what I meant

I’m trying to be wide open

Though not full-on letting go

I’m trying to find new found freedom

Yet also have the best of both

A female poet said to me

That when a woman says goodbye

Then usually it’s for forever

Because

It’s taken so long for her to say go

I don’t know if that’s true

I don’t know if it’s true for you

Or if it’s true at all

It seems quite unforgiving

A funny way of living

I hope we can

Occasionally be together

Yes that’s what I hope

And how far out goes the tether

Well I can but only hope

But I do agree

That constantly in one space

The place that for neither then is home

And it’s right that it’s your place

And that it’s up to me to roam

But I will have vacations

And weekends away

You know I’d like to visit

You know I like to write

I hope that

This is no intrusion

Let there be

No confusion

I do still love you

I love a you

That you don’t even know

That I know

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In a philosophic way

I’ve swapped my touch of love

For one that’s unrequited

I’ve swapped my near you love

For now I’m uninvited

Though unrequited is quite handy

You’re with me now I’m sure

Yes uninvited is quite handy

Sitting on the southern shore

I’ll steal from Mister Arnold

I’ll steal from Master Keats

Yes unrequited is quite handy

When stealing from the Beats

It is a new found freedom

Writing what and when I like

The spite and haste are put aside

On this new found magic carpet ride

It is a somewhat different Journey

Not known in the several stages of grief

It is a distinct overtly stranger journey

My past mind kind of that I leave

Rattle on the rail track

Verges merge behind

Chattel’s up the smoke stack

Uninvited; do you mind, thank you kind

I’ve read all the papers

Cheap at half the price

Reading rooms are quite a caper

Unrequited; don’t ask twice, that’s nice

The tone is turned and twisted

Freedom once again to roam

The tome is weighted, but I’m not listed

I wonder, but only in a philosophic way

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Landing Stage

I’d like to be your lover

I’d like to take you out to tea

Perhaps one day

To meet your mother

Does this all sound far too twee

We’d writhe and roll

In frenzied

Rampant passion

Cling on; nails engaged

As love’s juices flow

Afterwards a cigarette

Steady now

Can you put a mash on

Slap our thighs

Out loud laughs

Smiles gin sloe

You could see me

In my dorm

From what I hear

(The walls are thin you see)

It’s quite the norm 

Come up early

The sooner we can be free

It’s a pipe dream that I know

But pipe dreams

Sometimes have an afterglow

Motorway services

Saturday morning

Mythic garden

Morning dew

Middle-aged

And middle 

England

It’s not a crime

Its criminology

To leave 

These thoughts sublime 

I hope you smile

Before you turn the page

Loud with laughter

Another daft idea

It’s grim up north you see

Another landing stage

Purposefully crafted

Just to catch her

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Last

Today is the last of the last

Gone past the previous cast

Repeat the slog 

Third generation, clog to clog

Great grandfathers before

In eighteen sixty-four

Missed the war

Chose the close of door

Now it is my time

Read the rhyme

Off to do my thing

Sounds to have a similar ring

From principles mathematic

To humanities emphatic

To some it makes no sense

Without recompense

But please come on near

I am agog with fear

Trepidation in depth

Marks my breadth

What is to learn

But past concerns

Present understandings

Laughter on the landings

Clog or sculpture

Approach the vulture

Is it daft to mine or craft

This unknown shaft

The cobblers shop

The mighty stop

The rusted hinge

With lusts syringe

So it’s a must

Last take on just

Today’s the day

The slaves stole away

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