Your Poem Is Still Young

Your poem is still young
I have not mastered it just yet
I am constantly revising
still working on the phrasing

Your poem is still young
though its meaning is defined
I only have the final line
those last three certain words

Your poem is still young
each year instils new ideas
your actions suggest more rhymes
and we have many years to go

Your poem is still young
though I recite it constantly
my aim is to perfect it
through every day and night

Your poem is still young
I’d hoped to have found a way to say
to address all of the beauty and joy
there is in you, by now, but no

Your poem is still young
and I am glad to say that
it remains unfinished even now
open on the pages of my favourite notebook

Your poem is still young
still improving with every moment
as we lay together, safe in the flames
until the end of time, I’ll sing;

I love you…

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Give your eyes a break and listen to some poems

A Map of The World

In the bright cave
of memories, retained
lives a warm smile
kept, always, for you
Glowing with sharp precision
it will not fade
You painted the walls
of this space I occupy

With no hint of any slight
that could be held to you
No reason for ill thought
of any kind could be
Though I leave you here, our story over
You’re imprinted on the person
you helped me become

You showed me
a new map of the world
Your mind caught mine
and threw it wide open
I’d never known
such connections could exist
though now friendship only
it’s deeply revered

I remember how we lay
on your narrow bed, listening
Playing each other the records
of the songs that shaped us
You span me ‘Harvest
I unreeled ‘Knock Knock
Our minds at peace
in the glow of your globe

When I felt the slow damp tears
collecting in my heart
How I hoped this map would lead us
somewhere else
I’d been so sure
our river was longer
with more meanders
Still your wisdom remains, retained
deep within my bones

You showed me a new map of the world
Where you’d come from
well, I’d never been there
Now, I wonder if I’ll ever go
but if I do, know I take you with me
fondly, always, in my memory

Still your easy way has etched
its map across my brain
A place I think about so often
A place I’ll never be sure
I should have left…

[2011]

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The Prettiest Music

The heat shifts between rooms
from the front of the house, to the back
on the bed, your curled form is laid
I watch the sky as it cries in the street
blowing my nose, counting the people
they carry bags of food to their cars
filled with treats and sweet desserts
As I move to the kitchen, you stir for a second
this day is turning dark in the light from the loft
shadows dance, from the candles you lit

By the stove, I pause to warm my hands
not sure what to do, I don’t want to wake you
I sit back at the window, take up my book
but there are no new words to read and I place it back
if only the story would change of it’s own accord
O, I think it’s time for some movement
a raising of the silence, let the music in
just some small tune to warm this room
and your sweet progression of chords kissing my ears
I lie down beside you, cup your face
whisper some sickly greeting as you focus up on me

Come on love, we should make a song
you are the music and I am the words
you are the music and I am the words
we should make a song, my love
we should make a song
you are the music and I am the words
you are the prettiest music
and I am the most grateful words…

[2004]

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