There’s Something About April [poem]

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There’s something about April -
  the way she wears her clothes:
    loosely fit. One button more
      and September is exposed.
        The veil removed, her flesh reveals
          December’s naked trees;
             Springtime lurks behind the bark
               and drags me to my knees.

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on your blessed face [poem]

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I had something to say on the train the other day when she sat with splendid beauty in my eyes [but she’ll never read these words so they’re really safe to say]. Now they’re out there in the ether in the splendour of display [how easy in our hindsight to be wise]

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Celibate Solitude

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Celibate solitude. It’s the only way. Splendid ice-olation. (I won’t go astray) here in my cave with a pen in my hand. For ages I’ve lived like a crab in the sand. Hermit-hearted. Eagle-eyed. Misunderstood. Hurts inside. At least no one listens each time I cry…