Not for you
Not for you, the intimacies of the night,
you like the light,
the freedom of dawn, when
scampering winds shepherd clouds
over the hills of your dreams.
Not for you, the beguiling song of the blackbird,
The one you cannot trust.
You prefer the high rise worry of larks,
the pied piping of oystercatchers,
the querulous slide of the curlew.
Not for you, the hooting melancholy wood
but the thrill of the moor;
the paraglide of pipits, the thrum
and squeak of roller coaster snipe,
the tumble and whoop of plovers.
Not for you the furtive stoat in its crevice,
in the windy wall.
You prefer the clear lines of the wheatear,
a bright soliloquy in pastel, a promise in slate,
an innocent primrose gift.
Romance is not for you; too intense.
You’ve no time
to waste on pain and sighs.
You want no make believe, no lies,
just constancy ….. and life.
Published on:
May 4, 2009
