Lost sonnets

I do not know
Where now it lies
For so long
Amongst decaying dust
Of memories
Perhaps some lonely stranger
Has loved it
As once we did
And verses
Which once you read aloud
Tingle on their lips
In memory of my skin
Which prickled
At your gentle touch
Under the trees of summer.

A couple of days ago I came across a book online which I should have on my bookshelves but, for some reason, I do not. It was given to me decades ago by somone who is now a dear friend but at one time was, or perhaps could have been, were it not for my own youthful stupidity, so much more.


Dream dinner

In my dream
She passes me repeatedly
Never paying attention
As I try very hard
To ignore her

In my dream
She passes me hastily
Heading into the restaurant
As I wait outside
In the dark

In my dream
She passes me passively
Not actively rejecting me
As I fail to pluck up courage
To go inside.

I am currently making an effort to try and write down bits and pieces that I remember from my dreams. Partly because they can be quite inspiring but also because the subconsious mind can be quite good at telling us things in dreams that we are too blinkered to notice when we are awake. 

Equally, it can be a load of nonsense.

I saw you foundering.

You tried
To keep your head
Above water.

I held out my hand.

You took it tightly,
Holding on
For dear life.

With all my might
I began to pull.

You looked up
Into my eyes.

Without a word,
You kissed me

And let go.

Abundant love
As a single
Of hate

Soft pleasures float away
Caught on a breath

So load me up with love
And hate,
With pleasures, heavy as the pain:
And unbending
I will yield to all,

I settle
In perfect


Hand in hand
Toes furrow in sand
Faces by fire
Hearts smile
Bright eyes meet,
Smiles burn
Hearts kindle
Toes curl
Fingers entwine

This poem changed so much in the editing it is completely different for what I wrote originally.  The original poem was a story about holding someone back from who they could be, about not wanting to stop someone from living their own dream.  

Part of the original was:

She wanted to go, to dance among the thousands.
I felt then, my two left feet, would only hold her back.

As the editing progressed I moved from thinking about letting go to considering the experiences we had and one of the things we had talked about doing together. I felt the warmth of the happiness I once had experienced and the hope that some such beauty could be in my life again.  At the same time I thought of her in the firelight and how I hope that if she does go she will feel all the positive things I hope she will feel, that nothing, especially not someone else’s two left feet, will hold her back from her happiness.


A child called Sarah,
Whom I did not know could speak,
Who grew as I held her.
Carried carefully across rooftops
And became a kitten.

Broken buildings,
Rennovation with hammer
And tongs.
Tearing up barbed wire
And iron sheet.

The community,
Building a sandpit
And a swimming pool,
From a vacant lot
For the summer.

While the adults
Picked their way
Between the shells
Which had been houses,
Followed by cartoons.