Shall I compare myself to a blob of glue,
For then my destiny’s to stick to you,
And our bond would harden with constancy,
So you’d have to love me,
Just you see.
:)

She was not grand
As is the Green’s great oak,
Nor rare,
Her kin dot the land in modest abundance,
In her position lay her magic
Dozing quiet on the edge of hallowed ground
Canopy politely shading the walled path,
How many feet passed under her boughs?
And how many small hands, under autumn’s dappled sunshine
Did joyfully plunder her mahogany treasures?
A rite of passage for several generations,
Making the journey to and from learning just a little sweeter
And now she is gone
The hole she leaves greater than the space she took
So perhaps, grand she was, after all.

She was made of glass, I’m sure
Her beauty was her perfection; flawless,
Optically correct, one might say,
But she was hard with a sharp tongue,
And after a while the brittleness grew,
Her motives were transparent,
I should have been more careful, when I put her back,
But feeling dropped, she shattered
Razor shards and splinters flew, some cutting me
Oh, the pain of glass.

With no warning
Love’s tornado twists through lives
Blasting us high on dizzy eddies of precarious passion
Whole worlds spin with abandon
Beliefs bent and some snapped at the roots
then
With no warning
the storm moves on
So standing, bruised, in the breeze of imperfect memory
Amid the wreckage
We wonder what it was that was loved
And how to chase the wind again.

I give you a tune to mask the symphony
A word to veil the story
I give you a smile to confound the pain
A touch to hide the feeling

I give you humour to placate desire
Bravado to unseat honesty
A hug to shadow love

I give

What I can

Biro poetry doesn’t work
It does not flow or fill the page with easy thoughts
The pen is a bulky lover, rather than the finer bodied pencil
It gives no quarter in correction, and scribbling out is just a messy affair
So it is unsatisfactory, clumsy and clogging
Oh for my pencil, where have you gone, my love?
Your fine point skating the velum,
An extension of my mind
Allowing expression beyond such coarse biro
******!

So is Physics now in trouble
Because neutrinos too fast fly
As clever troglodytes with white coats
Measure once again the psi
Could it explain the dopamine injection?
The amphetamine of just one kiss
Underpinning organic chemistry
That can make me feel like this
But No -  it goes much deeper
It might give credence to the thought
That sometimes things just happen
With a cause that sums to nought
So Einstein wasn’t wrong
He just did not say it all
He knew that physics has its part to play
In explaining why we fall.