Between the clang and clang a flower,
A brazen calyx of no noise:
Meeting Point ~ Louis MacNeice
I'm picking though paired bookshelves titles skimmed, the odd glance further in surprised to find a few crimped petals there rose pink still with colour, the crushed calyx fired off its miniature charges as they dried - there's no recall for this act of preservation nor had I had thought such romance ever crossed my heart I'm picturing the person you once were, half husband half Arthurian knight, a time-worn troubadour making music such primal passion and I not far behind, chasing harmonies songs that you crooned in tenor, sweet words spoken some addressed to flyleaf - one that marks the gift of poetry a tight, thin book of love lines, and the one of your own making written that October when we began and time was on our side I'm rifling through a keg of keepsakes in the small treasure chest, gems precious as memories and tokens for the everyday bought full of thought, and now I remember all the perishables that came home with you - tasty titbits a leaf that spelled loveliness or needed a name more often of late a pick of sweet pink buttonholes sampled from a little rambler, somewhat wormholed and forlorn potted to adorn a Bloomsbury mansion house front door
With another of my poems dedicated to Martin, am joining with others in the Poetry Pantry
PoetryPix 