We have been looking for a place
Yet what better space
Than this one before us
A venue to come to for poetry
For one on one collaborations
To share our table, our scenery
From springtime through to summer
In the autumn, and the winter
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
We have been looking for a place
Yet what better space
Than this one before us
A venue to come to for poetry
For one on one collaborations
To share our table, our scenery
From springtime through to summer
In the autumn, and the winter
I stroke the hair behind my ears
The sun shines, a soft breeze blows
Cheerful dance music from the stereo speakers
Umpteen trees, each with an unknown name
Each with their own intricate rhythm
I take a moment, then a moment longer
Just to watch them, just to feel the breeze
I know this is the place, with pencil and paper
This space is where I want to be blowing
Growing and glowing to please you
And the spider on my notebook
Who is lost, unable to find any cobwebs
A blue sky, with a few light clouds
No heaviness there, or anywhere that I imagine
The tree above has buds, the shape of roses
Green overlapped oval enclosures
A very industrial word
From my industrial though not industrious past
Would it help your picture if I gave you a name
Oak, or beech, or apricot, or fig
Would that give you a richer image to embroider
Or is it infinitely of more value for you
Entirely to use your own imagination
I have no view; either way you will most likely
Take a path preordained by other forces
All I know is that when I stroked my hair
When I wrote these words in the sunlight
I marvelled at life's creation, a gift given my sight
My ears hear the birdsong; the chaffinch or curlew
Even to think of a swooping heron, on open water
I'm not going to read it
If it's going to make me cry
All of this
Just beyond the summer house
Beside the shelter of the arbour
Five windows to look out of
If you care to take the time
Five views which shout
Please open your eyes
And let your ears go walking
Don't worry yourself too long
About the bricks and mortar
Every day and every hour
I power myself
Without an idea in my mind
Numbness engaged over me
No enduring motive other than
The insatiable desire to write
No faithful worthwhile story
Just trite to rhyme up tight
What then of Neruda
Of seeing beauty in her eyes
What then to confuse me
In suspense always lays surprise
With the silent wind
My wavy hair blows
The trees whisper
I love you, yes I do
I press your buttons
You lend me your hi-fi controller
Do you know what this means to me
To think that I have inspired you
Dance, music
You are a folk-stock rock and roller
Do you know what this means to me
My iPod sits at ease beside you
You smile
At my laughter, I stand taller
Do I know what this means to you
I fall but your love saves me from growing older
We stretch out our cushions
Pledge the future of first steps
I hesitate
Then hold a candle to your shoulder