Tuesday, 1 October 2013

Her Purest Trick

I watch trembling
leaf shadows on the wall
and feel that I can cope
with winter and the dark

if the sun still
bounds along the hall
like golden retrievers
in the frosty park

astounding light
climbs the wooden door
and creeps across
the kitchen table

like soothing waves
licking the shore,
always moving,
never stable;

yet her gentle knock
never seems to come,
I know the bell
is no longer working

the sound of love
is a distant drum,
rarely seen, though
it might be lurking

there is some comfort
in this draughty light
even when the clouds
are damp and thick

she can still surprise
in soft dreams at night,
quivering beauty –
her purest trick.

About Me

My photo
I'm a poet based in Yorkshire, England, sharing a home with a Tibetan Terrier called Bertie who has little in common with the terrier breed, but does support a free Tibet ! (Words & Images Copyright: Maverick Heart, unless otherwise stated).