Softer Incline Poem by Tony Jolley

No need of a ‘cru’: grand or otherwise –
The wine of ‘nous’ is simply sublime:
Vines grown in groves of tenderness and grace
Upon the softer incline of our lives.
Rooted a country and almost a generation ago
In the sandy soils of the chalk-contoured coastlines of our youth
Tended by the sweet kisses of the Daughters of Destiny
And the safe hands of the Sons of Steadfastness,
Our lately-come fruit is grown ripe and plentiful,
Watered by the cool, plaited streams
Tripping down from the rolling hills of our home.

The taste on the tongue is neither rich nor regal –
Lacking that confluence of complexities
Of the twisted plots and dramatis personae
So beloved of the ‘buffs’ of Love
That mewl and moan from Mills and Boon
And leer lewdly from the outer reaches of the top shelf –
Yet it is life-long and true:
Laid down at first sight, first song, first kiss
And husbanded and wifed in careful constancy
In the safe-heart-cellar of our spirit.

Now family and friends drink the draught
Of the love of our lives
And see
And know
And share
The patient fruits of our years of waiting and wanting
And the Singular Beauty of the Time of our Being.