4a.m. thunder:

rain, like time,




today you spoke

in tongues


I replied

high laughter.


Ebb & flow

of us


like the sea

you shimmer.


This weather

becomes you.


I’m flighty

rain full


of fantasy


lightning strikes

I wait for the kill


long lived pockets

of habit.


Like you,

it illuminates,


before hurrying

away to storm


another’s bastion.


This August


Fresh like autumn

too much rain


garden heaves

with green


rampant blossoms

bob their blousy heads


detonating petals

white & pink


to float away.


Too much green

trees are lowering


over me


sun a faint thimble

bouncing light


on sleeping lids.


I dream of distant

seas, aqua blue


lost beaches &

a sun that heats


blood & bone

to burning.


Here august

just begins


lilies pink with

pollen heads


& yet the morning

light, hides,


season’s change


whispers winter’s

but a breath away


& waiting.



I inhabit other’s



sea vista

empty room


lies travelling.


I turn in alleyway

ever glance behind


to road I didn’t



The dead call out

to me


ask for flesh

on their story


eyes that lived

& loved,


need more than

half heard memory.


I dwell in other’s



while my own

floats free


like ignoble

hover bee






Five a.m. planes shuffle

push & slide as time


loops from my



you sleep in

another’s bed


head cradled

by the night


splash of sun

at dawn.


The children



riding their own



& the sea is in

my thoughts


demands I shred

these London




head for the horizon

where the whales




where the big dipper

signs my name



in starlight.








Rose petals



in summer storm


earth returns

to loam.


You think I

don’t notice



of your heart


flesh & blood

shed for me.


You find me



courtesy a slip

to disinterest;


I’m buying time

all mine:


none left for love

to cloy & burn


scoop out

my entrails.


I’m running free

fire poker red



in the breeze


twice born

I vanish.



What binds us,

is not


blood & bone & tears


it’s not, a golden ring

or common history


it isn’t pitter pat

of children’s feet:


what binds us is

stardust lost between


the mystery of sleep

the bright awakening.


A hand upon a cheek


a whispered prayer

your ankle touching me.


It can’t be stored

for future gain


or dusted down

& packed away.


What binds us is this



lost between


the echo of the owl

night rain on shutters


a drowsy glance

your face in sleep:


& lest I settle for another,

a love less deep


what binds us here

as lovers


we cannot grasp

& keep


it is settled in the

chambers of my heart


it beats its own

sweet beat


that Universe







We cannot touch

what we have left behind:


tears and years have fled

in drama. No regrets


‘’No regrets’’


She dips her head &



A lie!


We cannot smell the scent

of yesterday, those summer’s


stretch behind like lace:

a dragonfly, a hummingbird


a beach of coral, so many

’You’’ & ‘’I’’ 


I try to listen to those years

a snatch of song, a young man’s


stride; a key in yielding lock

a whisper in the night.


We cannot see, what’s left behind

a solstice moon, a furtive fox


my dreams, where love comes back

to haunt me.  A photo in a frame,


those struggles to the death have

vanished now in peace.


Here time marks us with its stamp

so dearly won.


I cannot taste you now

a sherbet in the shade


a hint of salt

on waning wave


I cannot reach you now

but with these words







It used to be



a feast of flesh

served upon


a plate of love.


It used to be

sensuality’s serendipity,


nor does my memory

exaggerate the way


I found you beautiful.


That look that lingered

on your face,


the race of heartbeats,

touch of skin on skin


electrified my life

& left my pulses




But now it’s more like

shaking hands:


although, still we slot

cracks & crevices


we forgot, fit cleverly



Yes, now it’s more

what love is not


& where we’ve been,



has left an imprint

we can’t blot, now love


has run,


at last the muse

has left us.

Summer tangle


I tangled with

the long grass


arms cut red:

criss cross


stripes of

holding life.


My garden is

a wild thing


escaping into



of iris, rose  &

lemon tree.


I tangle in

the long grass


like lovers arms

it wrestles


a caress,  &

sunrise leaves


an orange glow.

I move from east


to west,  lavender

raises musky head


reborn in summer’s






You hold me

like a book:


turning pages

searching image


hoping for a glance

I can’t reveal.


The clock ticks on

it’s midnight now


we talk on superhighway

peeling skin for bone,


my pages thin

& fragile


crushed to dust

by other loves.


You’re searching

for a meaning


the hollow of your

heart bleeds desire


& I fly out of print



by the satire

sold as love.


You hold me

like a book


I lean to catalogue

the moment.


Chapter heading

full stop.


End of line

hidden in your



black eyes.