Love Seed Poem by Alistair Graham

We cycle from my house to yours
over cracked paving stones
up and down buff-coloured kerbs
and the white line on the road

is

always in front and always behind
forever, outshining the black
while the sun on our backs
appears and disappears

and

our pre-adult bodies touching, blending,
and our wind-blown, red-cold faces
freewheeling by Redburn Country Park
then up to Palace Barracks, a crack of guns

nigh

the entrance to old Dunville's is our sign
that the heavy peddling is over
We are young, fourteen years old,
our love a seed, we pause for breath




now


mouth on mouth, cold and wet
and the tip of your nose,
your straight dark hair, a delicate face,
delicate body drawing me to embrace

later

in the sitting room at your house we sit
alone, loving each other by the minute,
dreaming dreams through the window
at a sky of giggled plans

now

mouth on mouth, warm and moist
and the tip of your nose,
soft
on my neck