A VALENTINE
Say not, my love, you think of oil
When you think of me, for me
The breeze sighs, sexy torso
Come out of the water now.
I look up the glory of our dawn
Look, dear heart, where has gone
The garish sun, how softly
Beams the starry moon, home.
I give you this fear Saturday night
Don't be angry if I sail into it
Beneath our favourite cloud
The sky deranged with blue love.
Two lovers in a Sunday harbour
Leaned their soft cheeks together
Their hair dark and co-mingling
Watch~d
life that love had sent.
They have straightened, bent, tried all
Two hands above the head locked
In
reclining, the same pressed for time
Sent love packing while they rocked.
Tony Towle
POSTLUDE
Then I can break
a rich design from the gaze,
with additions here and there
behind the clouds
which no one will disturb, asleep,
and wandering through the display.
