labour of love
what does it all mean
already the ear is listening
was it van gogh’s or munch’s scream
what do I care
what those others say or do
the words are mine and yours
we must work them through
just as in meditation
all and nothing is what is lost
contemplation with visualisation
writing and reading at what a cost
far far away also closer to home
see how the lover feels
as we dance to the music
with the jives and the reels
into the distance
out of the life
if as for instance
as sharp as the knife
along the harbour wall
with ice-creams in hand
stood so fair and so tall
as if all was simply as planned
into the silence
with never a word spoke
if as the licence
was there to choke
along the cart track
to the potato store
going and coming back
through the passageway door
i was that lover
yet also the leaver
i stood by your side
before walking away
i was the scoundrel
who left his two children
i said yes and forever
but was unable to stay
there is a love
which, quite simply
cannot be broken
this is the love
which yes and forever
will be softly spoken
there is a flower
which even in september
wishes to be open
this is the flower
which yes measure by measure
is a surefire lover’s token
ghost like black figures
with fluorescent silver outlines
as I reach the end
of my morning meditation
wherever you are
is wherever you are
with or without my being together
in ghost like black fluorescent silver
do you remember those boots
i don’t seem to have
a photograph
although the memory bank is deep
