October Dresses

I sat down alongside you
In the Church Of Just Getting By;
I placed my hand on your knee
Not born of ego, but to comfort,
Yes, from time to time.
I longed for the rains and ashes
Drained from an Autumn sky;
They stretch so far above Norfolk,
Where’s ending you and I.

I sat alongside purest love
In the Chapel Of Out-waited Time;
Love is not for tempering,
You moved my hand to your thigh.
I wanted to tell you a story
But words were stuck in my spine;
Life is only as good, my love,
As all we put before us,
Where fallacies will die.

Sometimes we seem to transmute
Thoughts between our minds;
The air is thinner, October dresses,
Your colours are divine.
Tortured by past events, memory
Can still yet retrace artefacts
In rooms which no longer exist.
Harassed by this inanity,
In your hopes I will reside.

The Measure

October rains;
I found a tape-measure
Underneath my pillow.
You placed it underneath
My dreams’ verses
Which revert to dramaturgic
Heathlands and dried,
Harvested high-hung wheat
In faded, yellow sheaves,
Kernels cradling hope
Like a jaundiced newborn
Baby in the arms
Of a nurse’s labours
Which are as wide as heaven,
As firm as a popular truth,
And that is the measure
Of how far our love
Endured and endeavoured
To find one another,
Over the thirteen seas
And under a gabled roof,
A pillow filled with straws
Which fall from the hearts
Of winnowing stars.

A Lunar Love

When stars advance
To where we now can see,
Their light-love travelled just so far
To where we had to be.

Constellations slowly move
And not as sequined heroes,
Our perspectives only prove
False gods are shaped like zeroes.

I’m glad that we are nearer now
Than source-springs of a myth;
My goddess is the meaning now
Of distance in life’s gifts.

Poem For Lovers, No.2

Let’s fill this house with flowers,
Attend some summer balls;
Forget those broken vases
Where we danced across the halls.

Let’s take a zigzag rabbit path
Between two sun-blessed dunes;
Waltz around a sandbanks
To lost romantic tunes

Which drift across the currents
And over love’s lagoon,
Reflections in her waters
Make a second moon.

I’ll pack the hamper in our car
And won’t forget those flutes,
Driving home above the stars
On blue Atlantic routes.

Let’s celebrate your loveliness,
Let’s grow old as weather,
The vases glued togetherness,
And rest beneath the heather.

Night Owl

Thank you for your photograph,
Passport-sized, white frame,
On the reverse side in red ink
You wrote your name and
Number. The image I received
On the spine of a silently
Howling owl in a dream
Last night I placed beneath
My pillow and in a dream
Within a dream you emerged
From the portrait large as life,
Your lipstick as red as the ink,
A deep red, deep as blood in
The whales stampeding through
The caves of my sleep searching
For their calves already hauled
Onto the harpoon-stationed
Entrail-made slippery deck
Of hail-harried vessels in
The steep Pacific breaches.

You gestured to me not to speak,
Finger over your lips and I was
Transfixed. I watched you
Carefully, devotedly, as you fell
Asleep in a red dress, your blonde
Hair falling over your eyelids and
Your nostrils and I reached to
Brush those beautiful strands away
When your mouth opened and
An alarm fell out and I woke
Sweating, and drowning, as
A refuse collection vehicle
Reversed outside my apartment.