You are my dream
Of the East
You are my life
In the West
Fused in one
You begin my day
And end each day
With a silent smile
When I die I will
Have only my love
To leave you.
You said I had written
No poems for you
And you had written
Only cheques.
I cannot go on loving
The empty air
No matter how many cheques
That air may bear.
I have a headache
And heartache
Remembering another love
Twenty years ago,
Living and loving and leaving
A city for a cottage
On the moors, the
Hyaline air, the silence
And the distant stars.
I am your poet
Officially or unofficially
You may not know it
But I am.
From the hilly north
I came and sang.
I found myself
At least half-a-swan.
Through all my rage
You see a man
Wanting love.
Through all your calm
I see a woman loving.
