MIDNIGHT MAGIC
When it is midnight over the ancient city
there are heraldic beasts flying above its spires
a unicorn a crowned lion with a fish tail
a winged mermaid and a leg in armour.
A silent knight with a copper rose instead of a face
steps out of his niche and disappears in the ground
spitting blue and purple sparks on the pavement.
But the heads of the twenty-seven protestant peers
carryon singing the mass "Dolorosi Martyr"
some of them taking the soprano part in trained falsettos.
You can hear them if you listen hard enough
they have not yet stopped after three hundred and fifty-six years.
A NOSTALGIC SWIM
Saints have been petrified in excited gestures
but the water under the bridge is deep and placid
since the soldiers have moved into the former convent
it is inadvisable to swim too near.
Yet you can come after sunset when the stars are bathing
and when the river has turned to indigo
take a torch with you a waterproof one.
And diving quietly shine it under the surface
and you can still see the Bearded Man in the pillar
he is covered with algae now and the fish nest in his mouth.
Then turn on your back and slowly paddle to the island
to
see whether the white night heron is still alive
Nycticorax nycticoraxl
he must be dead by now weep greenly you copper statues.
Anyway the guitar and two female voices
embroider the green darkness with silver threads.
