Tuesday, 15 August 2023

a poem for joan

so joan


the tide was coming in

the sun was growing warm

on the statuette of that youngly girl

bending to the sails of her three sailed boat

fare trading on the wind of a past blow warm 

there upon the whicker sitting as soft as you like

where you sat as i sit now 

i can see you now


the statuette is moved on a slight sunbeam’s quirk

and yet for a moment i was a child again

and you a young mum gay and joy

the beach a song along a childhood dream

the sky as blue sky thinking it seams to me

that to draw back from this reverie is to taste

the sea’s deep sorrow across this troubled world


and yet


oh time play not these tricks again

for winsome is a feral hat this wind will blow away

the day your fingers ran through my hair 

oh mum rest you there in my chair

and i will sun red and burnish this memory again

and the breeze will blow a tear or two 


again


it pleaded me not half today

to shed a golden tear for you

to draw the curtains 

and close the hut

for the tide is full and the dream on the turn


remember


oft tabled scones and jam and cream

and there the serviette to dry a tear

for as the sun sets today 

as it did long ago as i recall 

as if it were but yesterday 


sleep tight my dear

sleep tight my lovely one 

the story that was 

that yesterday

today i say 

it has just begun


 

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