days of restoration, making.

gathering , stacking found
books, some to tie, to read
later.

it is a curious thing, the cotton,
the string. there are films
and recollections for work.

if i say there is nothing
to understand, will you
understand this statement?



there is another ceasefire.

sbm.

don't you see, he said,
nothing will feel right again.

these things you have done,
may erase any sympathy you gleaned
from the past,
as awe full as it was.

sbm.

sits prettily, the starched mat
is frayed a little now.

it was an evening of festivities over
poetry, regarding god, diana, the queen
of hearts. catch phrase, a moderate game,
played better standing close, somehow.

the books were cheap, stock  sale in the library,
he left his life to live

in alaska. chapter two

sbm.

you are more
than anyone could ever be.
you are royalty
dressed in gold jewelry and purple robes.
you are worth
more than all the diamonds in the world.
your smile
can light up the darkest sky.
your laughter makes flowers bloom.
your eyes are brighter
than a summer sun.
you are loved.
you are treasured.
you're important.
you're enough.

was it the beer,
that made him mellow,
or just a gentle way
about him,
naturally.

i slipped by.

when he asked if i was speaking,
i says," if you like".

we chatted over manners
and harboured hedges.

these things  happen in the lane.

sbm.

sun, was done and dusted.

by the slate they talked, shining.
faces older now, friendship retained.

learned a little more on life, the small
things, the wisdom rings
the generations.

i did not need all the mange tout.

sbm.