She was caught
between two circles
of razor-wire
above the spikes
...
As she gazed,
pensively,
into the storybook
of the leaping flames,
...
Burgundy kisses,
red wine sweet on heart-lips
too lush to forget.
...
A couple of weeks ago
I gave multiple-birth
to twenty-one babies
and now in my back garden
...
I mean about
how and to whom
you moved on.
You must be laughing
...
She lifted lightly a strand
Of breeze-blown hair
Out of her eyes
Where she stood
...
Solutions of all kinds
are deeply satisfying,
(Hannibal’s “I LLLove it when a plan comes together” and all that)
but sometimes
...
Although she really did
get the message –
it was just that she was hoping
that it would have been kinder
...
As she whispered his name
there were trees sighing low,
in a mournful refrain.
...
Now, in self-restricted solitude
I choose my fading colours
from a dwindling palette of words
to smear their frailty silently
...