Oh it's so easy to say -
'Give what you think you lack -
You feel unloved? Then give love, and love, and love...'...
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
I'd like to write - like grown-up poets do:
with similes that span the universe,
that sparkle, crackle, dazzle, woo the mind;
and touch the heart with tender, swoony verse...
A pretty girl
is like a simile
so I'd say
so there you are in
your pram or kiddikarria
nicely tucked up,
being talked to in that
This is an angry poem.
About those weasel phrases
which blow like paper in the street
He — or was it she?
was a child who said little
but walked, endlessly, just looking
I love you.
That's it, really.
all there is to say.
Someone mentioned your name yesterday
and I was silent
You loved goodness, you were goodness,