To A Young Lady Poem by Ian Keenan

In this open heart
Your cheek blushed -
I breathed awkwardly;
Dressed in lilac,
Uncertain colour of your ways -
Laughter broke out,
Turning a sound joke stupid.
Carved in wood of many
Heads painted
For gods and devils -
Your good psychiatrist
Twisting lemon peel
In sugared water,
Cathartic tonic for the
Arthritic id,
You carp at life
But leave the hook
Unbaited.

Token of the mindless eye
of men,
Stone in my shoe,
Perhaps a rock in some
Man's soul;
Still born,
Yet to be born - or,
Born only when loving,
Dying