My heart is aching; you complain
That Romance lacks in my domain.
It seems to me small fault indeed;
I'd thought that Words, you didn't need.
I thought you knew my love was real
And you would sense what I did feel
From the system that I chose
Of solid Tokens, bare of prose,
Believing that these things implied
The sort of Love I feel inside,
While Words are futile, cheap to throw,
And, only really Time will show.
But now I see that all these things -
Like souvenirs, and silver Rings -
Do not appear to quite convey
The words I really mean to say;
And while they may express intent
They lack the feeling that I meant;
Unless of course I'm there in fact
To give the Token what is lacked.
But fortunately now this Space
Between us, serves to make a case
For putting, at the present time,
Sincere emotions into rhyme.
For as we are so far apart
We need the message heart to heart.
A poet I've not lately been;
My stable mind had quit the scene.
It needs a rough-and-tumble mind
Of Turmoil, Fear, and Things Unkind,
Of Hopes unfurnished, Wishes slighted,
And in my case, Love unrequited.
But you of course have filled my head
With thoughts of Happiness instead,
So you must see that you're the cause
Of this late Poetic Pause.
My heart no longer wanders lost,
Around your own its arms are crossed,
It loves you in its only way
And wishes by your side to lay,
To guard you, guide you, keep you well,
And always next to you to dwell.
A year or two may seem a score,
But then, we hope for fifty more.
Together we will make our ways
And share the rain and sunny days.
A Lifelong Plan cannot survive -
We'll cross each bridge as we arrive.
We must retain some give and take
While firm commitments we shall make.
This lovely World we shall explore -
The Cornish Coast, the Suffolk Shore,
The Hills of Wales, the Irish green,
And when these islands we have seen,
A little bit of World each year
Will stop our lives becoming drear.
Perhaps I'm wrong, when all is said,
To speculate so far ahead.
Though we must have an aim to keep
Of Harvest ripening to reap,
To nourish Love in future Time
When Novelty is past its Prime.
My heart is always Yours despite
The fact that you're now out of sight.
And if the same to you applies
Our future will need no disguise.
But what will pass, we cannot know,
For, only really Time will show.
Written July 1975, for Yvonne
Unspoken declarations, a story never told,
Nipping off the the bud of what could never now unfold.
Why did he never tell her? Why was it left unsaid?
Instead he caused bewilderment within her youthful head.
He felt a need to travel - oh, it did not matter where,
What struck her most was that it seemed he'd leave without a care.
Excited about heading somewhere off the beaten track,
It all seemed just so easy - he would go, and not look back.
It wasn't something she would do, she could not understand
Why he would want to venture towards some far foreign land.
Was she not enough for him? Was this the future planned?
Well then, let him go - he was not worthy of her hand.
That may seem a harsh judgment but what else was she to do?
She could not be responsible for things she never knew.
They say that if you love something, then you should set it free;
Other lives were lived and she knew hers was meant to be.
So many years have intervened, yet now they melt away
And he and she are young again, reliving far-off days.
Would it have made a difference had those precious words been shown?
It's a piercing, burning question - but the answer is unknown.
Thoughts before we met again.
Though years have passed since we two last
Each other's hands did hold,
Through years between, of summers green,
And autumns grey and gold;
Though you had marked your only path,
While I has lost my way,
Still now I find you come to mind.
Just sometimes. Every day.
at sunrise, when the day was fresh and new,
you gave to me wild flowers damp with dew
and in the sparkling freshness of the dawn
we gazed upon the golden fields of corn
contrasting with the cloudless azure sky -
we were so happy then, just you and I...
the song inside my heart is left unsung
for you have never known the torment sweet
of loving with a love so incomplete
you give to me a single scented rose,
symbolic of a love that can't exist -
then you vanish through the hazy evening mist.
Two Short Poems by Yvonne
(when she was very young)
LAST THOUGHTS OF A DOG
My Master, I grew up with you,
Remember the day I came?
Remember I cried all through the night?
Remember our very first game?
Remember you used to spank me
For puddling on the floor?
Remember swiftly picking me up
And putting me out of the door?
Remember me chewing your jumper?
Remember me eating your shoe?
And the time when I ate the toothpaste?
I remember it well - do you?
Remember the cat from up the road
That I used to chase to the tree?
The firemen had to rescue him once -
He's dead now. R.I.P.
My master, you are older now,
But far too old am I.
The needle's ready to go in.
Goodbye, kind Master, goodbye . . .
It is the Year Two Thousand and Fifty.
There is no Life on Earth
And no vegetation. All land is barren
And the water is not clear liquid
But greenish-brown slime.
The air is foul and poisonous;
Dangerous to inhale. It would kill
If there were lives to destroy.
The soil contains chemicals,
So many that if plant-life existed
It could not survive.
Dwellings are reduced to rubble
And if any still remain intact
They are now worthless
For they will never be inhabited again.
Earth is no longer an asset
To the Universe;
It is a revolving orb
So much for progress.
More Poems by Yvonne
Angel's Feather -
I thought I heard a whisper
in the quiet of the night
I reached out to my bedside lamp
so it could shed some light
But all around was silent
the home was still asleep
so very slowly I got up
and through the house did creep
And that is when I saw what seemed
a small star shining bright
which for a moment bathed the room
with soft and subtle light
Then something caught my eye
as I stood there in the hall
and in rapturous amazement
I watched a feather fall
So white and pure and perfect!
I marvelled at its sheen
that beautiful memento
of what I had just seen
Is it wishful thinking
or a wondrous sign from God –
a feather on the very spot
where once an angel trod?
where once an angel trod?
Pistols At Dawn