for Alice*

The coach party bowled off and quiet descends.
In the white room you sit in the corner of a window seat.
The view to the lake and the trees beyond absorbs your gaze.
Whilst I, though staring at your black stockinged knee, suddenly
Catch the sunlight tumble through your disordered hair.
Beside your cool hands lie two necessary props:
A green bag and, nestling close, your camera;
The extra eye and recording angel of your present art.
 
I am at rest; gathering words to sketch this unplanned pose of your sweet self.
My imagination removes your blue coat, unbuttons your red frock,
The curve of the shoulder then revealed that earlier held me spellbound as you slept.
Though into the silence now come footsteps and desultory conversation,
Your gaze remains caught by the snow on the fell tops
Where above a parliament of clouds determine the possibility of rain.
Know you complement the still beauty of this Lakeland place,
at one with the play of space and the gift of light.