There once was a man named Claude
Who married his cousin Maude
Their kith did heartily celebrate
As they wed within the family state
Of genetic accord were Maude and Claude

You left the door
of your washing machine
wide open.

I noticed that
when we fetched
your clothes
the following day.

You never did wear them;
after your death
we took them away.

I guess you, like me,
my son, thought you'd
return that day
to close the door
and carry on
with the wash.

You never did
return to close
the door or do
your wash again;
you thought it
was an old
problem returning,
a similar pain.

Your flat is rented
by some other now;
all your worldly goods
divided like
the cloth of Christ,
but with a sadness
and hurtful feel
handling your things
after your demise:
books, clothes,
CDs, DVDs,
hats and coats.

Seeing them again,
my son, brings lumps
to ours throats.

I wish I’d stayed behind
that night, not left,
thinking all'd be
all right.

What was it like,
those last hours,
when we weren't there?

I closed the door
of your washing machine;
a scent of you
hanging in the air.

Many years ago I made plans to write a novel.
I gave up because my attention was drawn elsewhere.
But it seems I've rediscovered a lost passion.
I can't help but enjoy being around people who are as addicted to this drug as myself.

I'm afraid that i put too much
words in your blurry facade paper
that it may bleed as soon as you read mine.
The truth that i keep for so very long
that i can't tell
I'm afraid that you will go far beyond my existence
and i fear to loose you as a friend
because of these feelings.

~

Saint of Light

Release these chains of tortured deeds
Along a sculpted veering hedge
On paths this darkness tends its breed
Of jagged cliff, so near that edge

For one false move, lurks footstep dread
Beneath the agony now shown
Within these eyes and lips of red
Heartless wishes winged and thrown

I offer thee a hand so warm
You maiden fair this winter’d breeze
To greet my heart within this storm
Unshackle those in firm release

To lie with me of feathered dreams
And take of all my soul can bare
Your beauty comes of all it seems
In flesh that I do long to share

For of thy ******* my mouth does meet
Aroused in pleasured flitting feast
Rose petal soft, magnolia sweet
To sooth the yearnings of the beast

Of endless days, to hold you near
Pure love doth conquer moistened *****
Melodic whispers call thy ear
Eternally we shall be joined

For I am called the Saint of light
Come taste the flavors scented mist
When now the full moon shines this night
And I partake your temptress kiss

Let us not argue anymore
About who'll walk to the corner store
We've had this row many times before
It's your undertaking to do the chore.

If you wish to eat fish pie for tea
You'll get your feet going in a hurry!
Stalling and prevaricating won't wash with me
Hop to it you dawdling fuddy duddy.

I'm ****** fed up with all these rows
Are you women always such cows?
Always on the who's and how's
You make me feel like a little girl's blouse.

It's a woman's job to do the shopping
Again you've got me really hopping!
We really should be out there bopping
Although my dancing is really shocking.

We've not been out on the town for years
This corner store walker is now filled with jeers
It may be my job to get the groceries at Sears
But our dancing and romancing have been in arrears...

I'm pretty sure you'll have the last word
But here my argument must be heard
You always treat me like a ****
And claim I'm as mad as George the third.

Darling I've treated you as a sow
Why don't we bring an end to our row
Let us hug a little and make up now
We'll enjoy an intimate pow wow.

What's done is done is what they say
Okay, okay I'll earn my pay
I'm on my way!

(C) Paul Butters and Elizabeth Squires 25/04/2014