Wanting to turn,
It’s darker in here than out there.
Light fades quicker in stale air.
Of kids that are not me, or you, or goats.
Are quietened with milk and night-time prayers.
It’s darker up here than down there
Where streets are the reserve of far-away.
And lights are dimming while they pray
And they, go in to rest.
They melt and fizzle on my tongue, as soon as we’re together,
My hackneyed rhyme may stand in line, as if it had thought better.
They dip and swoop and leap and swirl, praise of every kind,
But I look your way and soon realise it all was in my mind.
The lightest touch, the briefest glance, would set my heart a-flutter,
Now two years on, and I think thoughts I swear I will not utter.
An open hand I left to lie, all lonely and forlorn,
Hoping it would catch your eye and I’d be yours ‘til morn.
A dancing chequered joy you were, all lit up with smiles,
A pool of beer now in my lap, so much for feminine wiles.
Blushing cheek on beating heart, a feeling now familiar,
Arms entwined in loving grasp, I start to feel peculiar.
You listen nightly to my fears, your patience never-ending,
A medal you deserve my dear, your ear I must be bending.
I’m the one, who’s scared of all the beauty that’s before me,
And still you soothe and care for me, oh how you must deplore me.
So handsome in each photograph, you really are quite dashing,
My face is weird: that’s what I get, for juvenile car-crashing.
I know you’re feeling odd tonight; I’d really like to cheer you,
But I’m afraid I’d crowd you out by wanting to be near you.
I’ll be here, while you take time, I’ll love you now forever,
And look at me! Well, I can rhyme! Oh, aren’t I very clever.