The Roe and the Rape.
This evening, I gave up trying to write,
And let the robin call me out to play.
I felt foolish when I realised what I was doing:
Table chained, and writing of river summers
When late spring fields and opportunity
Had been singing their heart out for a worshiper
To come to the sunset church.
Realising the May Day incarceration late,
I left in such a hurry, I didn’t drink my tea.
The door chuckled at me, to be left unlocked.
The house felt proud of me, and happy to wait.
Into the village and already the startled pigeons
Were high fiving praise in their arch swing-wing slap.
By the style, the day-long marrow boned tiredness
Was oozing from my moving thighs,
Left gladly behind in the template of my boot trudge.
Into the wide fields and the colours and song
Sent me into a Bacchic spin. The world in pink,
Blue, green. Oil seed adding that banana blush
Warm smell across the whole evening.
I thought of you and my hand felt empty.
A sober moment, as I remembered the
Feeling of not living alone, and of a daily sharing.
But then, I saw her. We startle eyed each other.
All the grace of a thousand icon models
In that curve of her neck and the question of her solid staring.
I watched the deer and the deer watched me.
I could feel her indecision as she gauged my intention.
Her companion, less brave, did not make herself so visible.
I am sure somehow, she nodded approval as she let the
Bumpkin paparazzi get her phone and action burst some pictures.
I walked back home, bursting drunk with what I had seen,
The big toe nail moon winking at me above the hedge
Approvingly. All the roadside now, white splashes of flower.
And I realised: I didn’t know I was so thirsty for the smell of
Cow parsley until I drank it down in my palm.
I so nearly missed the party, I was so busy planning my own
Diversions and excursions in my word cell indoors.
And the vivid, tender green of the new leaves waved in congratulation,
Inclined their faces, and loved me back as I said:
“I celebrate you! I celebrate you! I CELEBRATE you!”
The Village, with the pigeons on the wire:
The light was amazing, as well as the constant birdsong:
The path before I saw her:
The sun setting over the Oil Seed Rape and my village: