Gazing out your window at the universe outside
my eyes behold a tapestry of multi - coloured hue,
a summer palette of emerald green beneathe
pale blue  ribbon skies and the glint
of sunset on the leaves.

Slowly . . . I turn my head and glance all around
at the room that surrounds me, my senses captured
by the image of your face . . . trying to recall
half - forgotten images that linger in my thoughts,
like some sound I cannot trace yet somehow I cannot forget
an anomaly of fate . . .
across the veil of stars to this time and place
waiting for you to be born again and be of age, waiting . . .
for us  to meet once again and rekindle the flame.

Walk with me again like we did before
maybe a thousand years ago or more . . .
across the village square of some ancient town
or along the edge of some distant shore
seagulls high above, the roar of waves loud like thunder
as we ran naked, laughing wild
racing like the wind . . . our bodies wet, coloured gold
we were called apostles of Adonis, children  of Apollo.

Saturday . . . another end of a perfect day
where after the rush, the roar of the wave
the silence begins . . . the quiet interlude
between twilight and evening
glancing at the peaceful night
and whispering in a moment of confession " I love you ",
beneathe the half - moon shining bright.


May 1975