The Island

Hold me here forever,
It wouldn’t be so long;
Until we are together,
I’ve watched my life go wrong.

I felt so long in the tooth,
Until our love made land;
Our flesh was only loving,
A subcutaneous gland.

Stay with me forever,
This island is all we need;
Life has new endeavours,
Eternity’s in the reeds.

Dina Morgabin

These kisses we missed
In other lives elsewhere,
These exquisite moments,

No wonder we arrived
At inevitable reunions where
I dreamed for years

Of lifting you up in my arms,
Passionate embraces,
Time repaired.

For as long as the seas
In our heritage are green,
And as long as the skies

Are propped by the dreams
Of atlases may we continue
To breathe and complete

The abstract truths
Dormant within our ribs
For such profound time

We almost forgot we exist.
My focus here is solely on
Your beauty and your gifts,

Your experiences,
Harmonising pleasure,
Retuning the truth

To satisfy the needs
Of an uncompassed ocean.
Here on this island,

Here with your bliss,
Now and forever
We will exist.

West Island

A misty creek,
Derelict fishing fleets,
Salt marshes.
A quay where
Lifeboatmen
Would take their leave
To make a widow
From a wife
And orphans
From children.

Main town
Slips by,
Little more than
A row of tightly
Huddled cottages
Asleep beneath a
Precipice, one street
Along the front,
A couple of boarded-up
Empty pubs, I could not

Tell too well as
Through the low-hanging
Clouds gripping
Like lobsters’ mouths
The shells of our minds
There are no lights
Discernible, no life.
We sail on, for some
Parts of these islands
Are only reachable

By waterways
And rising currents.
There is no ferry
These days from
Mainland ports;
Abandoned, an
Airstrip resigned
To weeds, brambles,
An empty map.
There are no trees here,

Nothing higher than
Shoulders of shrubs.
Routinely, unforgivingly
That renowned mist
Which tourists
Fought to see
Now blinds islanders,
Abducts their tastebuds
And tactful languages.
Waves make funnelled

Wrong-way passages,
A distant alarm
Sounds in reverse,
We observed the
Crewless lifeboat return,
Hauled by our yearning
Thoughts up ramps, into
Its empty station.
There is nothing left
But waiting.