This.

I’m sharing your night as the

secret rain pains across open

windows

your eyes hold on to me

as your fingers try to get into skin

my chest - my back your

sad, lonely, eyes already

there.

Together, alone – between us

just

the dark - we are soothed by

the hiss of passing cars

on cold wet roads,

yellow lights slowly dance

around the room and on your

honey skin - you

sigh and I know this

- this.

Thoughts, hopes,

chase across a void

some empty mind - I

tremble while cold alleys

echo

we hold each other

still. I feel your ankles

crisscross my flank

as I soften inside of

you.

Together we share each

other –

this

feeling

a slow pealing scab

from healing skin. You

me and the night –

This.
This.

And a single

Tear.

Dorset girl.

You’re with me

down lonely lanes

the sweet scent of

wild Honeysuckle -

Pink Foxgloves

tip-i-toeing

‘look-at-me’

you say –

you’re with me.

You’re with me in

the soft collapse of

every breaking wave

a light mysterious

breath -

caresses me a

gentle kiss your

crystalline reflection -

you’re with me.

You’re with me as I pull

the lonely crumpled sheets

across bare shoulders

while quiet shadows close in

a strange moonlight lulls

me to sleep-

you’re with me.

You’re with me at night,

Pink Valerian dreams

as we love again in

fields of Meadowsweet

you’re with me.

Episodes of you.

I lie with my head in

your lap where all my

dreams are met

where your rose water

moves you in circles

of delirium.

Where you push

back against me

where my boy-

hood got mixed up

with life.

The sky outside

is crying again

as tomorrows

weeping children

lean out of the shadows

of brutality.

Episodes of you -

battalions

of you engulf me

wave after wave

like

medieval battles

hand to

hand.

And you defeat

me

push your

lance right

through my

heart

and now I

look up

my

head in your

lap –

defeated in love.

Imprison me

Imprison me in May where we

meet in our secret lane

you - beautiful and naked under your

simple shift dress.

Hold me hostage in this moment where

arms crossed you slip out

of your clothes - creamy skin

the treasure of your breasts.

Capture me as I pull off my jeans

tear off my T – Shirt naked

ready for us as I lay

you down.

Make love with me amongst the

Dog violets and Cecile

Where clouds of Hawthorn blossom

meet your heavenly gaze.

Remember this always as

unhindered by your everyday -

life – you laugh and slumber

in this our sultry dance.

Linger in this stolen moment as fertile as

the month - walk away from

me full of our love with new life –

our own white cloud

growing within.

I drink at the Altar of you.

I drink at the Altar of you

Your back arcs in ecstasy

As thunder clouds hide behind

Ancient Mountains

Your eyes glorious Gazanias

As the nib

Of me navigates you

Searching – searching

I scallop your bottom

Thirsting in this

River of my desire

An arid lusting

As Jets leave your nail marks

In the sky

And this is for me a

Selfish sustenance

My cravings - this lascivious hunger

For you my love

For you.

Callow Top

Your waiting on the ridge

of Callow Top swaying in

the Holt.

The new Moon caresses

you with a promise

of tomorrow.

The sweet smell of your

blossom enriches me -

enters me.

As the blanket of our open

meadow unfolds for -

us.

In the darkness - snowy

Whitethorn embraces

Laburnum in nature’s

hustings.

Whilst even the virgin

white flowers of Nettles

entice me in.

Was that you?

Was that you

the low morning

Sun, shimmering in the

glade,

smiling?

Was that you

a chill chasing up

my spine, a wild Orchid

in the breeze,

swaying?

Was that you

a brilliant

Red Admiral

fluttering

just two inches

from my face
dancing?

Was that you

my little

girl

always

nine years old

nine years old,

was that you?