A similar but deeper view

That day

A Friday afternoon

You

Home from your work

In excitement you asked

Could I come out

Out with you

Soon

The canvas

Above the fireplace

Sits in the study

Or in the sitting room

Your eyes

Full of life

Full

Of joy

You humour

My trousers

The braced up

Corduroy

Out over the cornfields

The violet hue

A substitute for rapeseed

This season new

My how the Wolds wield

In the late

Then later

Summer’s afternoon

The cloth cut suit

On our date

Worn not one moment

Not one moment too too soon

That way

Dressed for the occasion

The poppies

They are in bloom

And you would say

Hey

Please

Won’t you, please, share my room

Be there

With all of your excitement

To wear

Your love of life

I forgot to mention the tree

In the middle of the picture

Which we photographed

From the edge of the field

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You might, and anyway why wouldn’t you

Outside

The cricket pavilion

The sky is blue

Sauvignon

No trace

Vermillion

In time

The censor tried

My friends

They cried

Just shave her

Brazilian

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Softly, slow down, wait awhile

How softly could you be spoken

How open

To a token of my love

How by the roadside

Would be broken

The unspoken language of our love

That moment

Awoken almost by Neruda

With the gentleness above

Softer, less, let it be lower

Endowed

With the power of good

The flowers beside you

Shower

Your love

Wait

Just as long as you want to

Spoken, how only you could

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It is a miracle, I believe you

Your garden

A thirty year construction

Self, from within the self

Deep meaning

A flash of light deduction

Dwell, no more to religion tell

Your vision

Out of darkness

Away from fear or flight

Keep dreaming

With nature’s seduction

Sell the sail of light

You are one

The same two person being

Independent of each other

Seen seeming

Without of contradiction

Able to care and cooperate

Your me

I came with no reason

The season though has changed

I’m leaning

To see the garden gate

My birthday, my dilettante date

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A long, not lost, weekend

I fall asleep to the sound of Buddha Maitreya

I wake to find your hand hold of my fingers

The singer of the song sings I love you

I believe in the circle of the ring we seek

Hours of lost moments retiring into my sleep

Our evening turned into morning

Our love fascinated by the keep and the keepsakes

Our details deeper than the skin we reap

Your day, our journey, your questions, our purpose

Our unconditional leap it is a life’s work

If you want to help; neat

Seek out the formed and rounded boulder

Take them to Buddha Maitreya

Ask if they can be the payment for our keep

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