On the edge of sleep
On the cusp of miscalculation
Warmest of places
Feelings of lasting contentment
Past loves
With new blood stirring
Close your eyes
Unbutton just a trouser
Drift away
Into some lust just full of oblivion
Some other spacious ecstasy
Tiredness; quietly there she takes you
Gives you a frizzle
Strands your hair
Upstanding, her hands
Are soft and warm
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To be numb
Without movement
Caught awhile
Absent in your own mind
Unsung
Slowly moving
Dancing
Somewhere back in time
Spaces
Voids unopened
Fumbling
For another line
Piece together
A fresh
And first collection
Surely still, yet still sublime
Run
Right back into my arms
A cradled enclave
If to be so brave
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All that is me
Are words on bits of paper
All that I have
Is love to hold you tight
All was undone
And then you held my hand
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Here I am
I listen to your northern songs
Your melancholic, mellow middle-age
I remember your catchy tunes
Your good year
For the roses
I send her picture postcards
Of past times from a while ago
When I bounced around
In brothel creepers
And skin tight, drainpipe
Sky blue jeans
Seems like only yesterday
How to have found
So so many memories
So so many places to linger
While you stroke
My hair, faced back
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Rounded off post tops, twisted and twirled
Balustrades, fair places for the children
With fair hair
Sat with a smile
Beside your granddad, in a straw hat
A string vest
You remember the testament
A personal recollection of the ending
Of the war
Indescribable, words fail
Instead; tales of evacuation
Sisters
Children; from all over
In ones and twos and threes
With your long past adolescent
Smile
Behind the broad rimmed glasses
Back into happiness
Way away from sadness
Toss another pebble
Into the flow and ebb of sea
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