Silhouetted, we stood in silence
Beneath skies mother of pearl.
We dreamt we saw you coming,
Thought we heard your wings unfurl.
We dived and tried to find you
But we did not succeed.
Then you rolled into life, iridescent and pure
And burst from a porcelain seed.

The day you died I ate a lime
And pondered how it shared its time
On Earth, beneath the Sun with you.

The light drawn deep through pitted skin
To feed the precious pips within
And swell the flesh, so sharp and fresh,
Sweet goodness, given life.

And now you're gone and numbness lies around us like a blanket
Grey wool absorbing every short, sharp gasp that greets the news.

And as your embers start to fade
The clustered citrus suns displayed
In fruit bowls where your children played
Lie desiccate and drawn

The day you died, I ate a lime
And pondered how it shared its time
On Earth, beneath the Sun with you

And as I scored its skin with steel,
And turned it in my hands to peel,
Its juice fell all around my feet
Like blood onto a Yorkshire street.

I started with an early climb
Left morning's waking yawn behind
And high above a sleeping street
As Tuesday's heart began to beat
The morning broke clean open
And I saw the sky torn wide

The brittle ceiling of the Earth
Recalled an oyster shell at first
The pearl horizon, silver pink,
Entranced me as I stooped to drink
The splendour of the morning down
With all its healing peace

I let the first light warm me through
And shared the incandescent view
With others perched in eyries
All along the city's edge
We watched the rolling world unfurl
And offered silent thanks
While far below the tangled flow of commerce burst its banks

Where sunset copperplates the sea
With flecks of gold and Verdigris
And down below, the ghosts of ships do battle in the bay
Where in the morning, rising scents of sea salt and of sage
Drift up the hill on gifted wings to greet the kids that come of age
On dry stone walls in olive groves
Beneath the strident sun

Sharp shadows cast by old scrub oaks
Where once young shepherds flung their cloaks
Resist the timeless tug of war of brash Etesian winds
Where goats' bells bounce off whitewashed walls, with each staccato leap
And black-wrapped widows spin their webs to catch what precious dream-filled sleep
They might ‘neath watch of leaning, still
Centurions of stone

To soothe the white heat of the sun
We dived and left our limbs undone
In ocean coolness, born again - and flushed, we struck for shore
With towels held high above our heads
we tiptoed onto land
And broke from canvas rare delights to share upon the sand
The day we lunched on Ithaca
Two thousand orbits turned

Content, we hung in listless sleep
As painted ladies traced our shape
Until the lure of barefoot expeditions brought me round
I picked my steps with casual ease through shade of salt-dried driftwood trees
And swore I’d found the very glade where hung the Golden Fleece
I turned to share my thrill with you
But chose instead to spare your peace

Soon after came the faithful sound
Of bells that haul the Earth around
Each chime remarking loud and clear its moment’s fading grace
And deep within you as you slept, inaudible at first,
The beating of a second drum began to be rehearsed
The day we lunched on Ithaca
Life’s liquor quenched our thirst

The sharpened stone of summer steps,
Hewn from the Tuscan crust,
Lies cool in terracotta shade
And wind-fetched, thin saharan dust.

Soft footsteps on a flagstone floor,
A sweep of homesewn skirt,
Cool churches where our shadows died
And freed our dreams to dance and flirt.

We yearn for birdsong, peace and sleep
For leather, wood and wine -
A life where rosebuds mark our path,
Lived in a straight unwavering line.