BBB Poem 17

Today it is Plemont
Last night was the Oyster Box
I tell you this for no reason
Other than for love, or is it for the paradox

Today it is rocks and cliffs
Last night; oysters in champagne butter sauce
I tell you this with naught held back
Other than for love, or is it for the vibrant rose

Today it is clouds and sands
Last night was lights along the promenade
I tell you this as if for anything
Other than for love, or for the Marquis de Sade

Today the rib is cancelled
Last night was the opera house
I tell you this with a care to record
Other than for love, or is it for the lousy louse

Today it is wind, and rain
Last night was Newton Faulkner’s songs
I tell you this in case you see me
Other than for love, or the rights and wrongs

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BBB Poem 16

Where love was lost
Where lust was found
To touch-tone evenings
Is where we were bound

From Gorey to St Aubin
From restaurant to bar
To you being propositioned
Beneath the moonlit star

Where aches were shared
Where pains were hidden
To touch-tone evenings
Is where we were bidden

From airport to airport
From car to car
To our becoming lovers
Plans offered from afar

Where smiles were ours
Where frowns were left behind
To touch-tone evenings
Is where we were ultra-kind

From house to flat
From together to apart
To becoming parents
New dreams to start

Where tiredness did enter
Where impatience arose
Those touch-tone evenings
Brought silent, to a close

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BBB Poem 15

Granite houses
Granite walls
Granite quarries
Granite souls

Soft sand beaches
Slowly turning surf
Hold on to your reaches
For what it is that I am worth

Granite towers
Granite stepped
Granite defences
Granite swept

Silver screen horizons
Fishermen's old boats
Prayers to far off Zion
Gathered in with all my hopes

Granite outcrop
Granite coastline
Granite harbours
Granite moonshine

Waves turning, also lapping
Before the singular shingle boar
Sea breeze on faces mapping
Quiet now, the departing roar

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BBB Poem 14

I didn't take breakfast at the breakwater
I came here
Because you may have wanted me to
Though I have no memory
Of St Catherine, or of being here with you

Move on

To Rozel Bay
Where Beau Couperon hotel as was
Is now a ten million pounds private dwelling
With its own steps onto the beach
From the door in the battlement wall

I came here
Because we stayed in the one-time hotel
Which is now someone’s house
I remember a balcony, a shingle beach
I remember rock-pools, a meal in the restaurant

Wasn't it the year we went to St Malo
Also to Samares Manor
I know these facts
Because of the photographs, stored digitally
On many computers, since those very days

Move on

To Archirondel, and the Driftwood Cafe
Where I have ordered breakfast
Taken snaps of sea, and rocks, and the tower
I don't recall sitting here with you
Yet I feel I must have

I imagine, that in ten years time, or so
This place
Will also have gone upmarket
In the style of El Tico, and La Braye at St Ouens
Altogether more gentrified than I remember

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BBB Poem 13

It is a blue sky Saturday morning
I could wear a white shirt, and denim jeans
I ought to walk alongside the harbour
And take a coffee, at the top of the slip

I should sit, and wait
I should sit, and be
And in between the waiting, and the being
I remember, that I am no longer with you

It is a sun filled Saturday morning
I could take a bath, have a shave
I ought to soak, perspire even
And make myself thoroughly pleasant

I should stroll, and sojourn
I should be the flaneur
And in between the bathing, and the strolling
I remember, that I am no longer with you

It is a bright light Saturday morning
I could lay your clothes out
I ought to layer your silks
And use the mirror to choose the colours

I should skip, and laugh
I should smile with joy
And in between the joy, and the laughter
I remember, that I am no longer with you

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