Ships That Pass (Poetry)
25th January 2015
How could you be so sure
after only one night ? —
those few hours spent
over dinner and talk
with a stranger chance-met
who was fleeing some ‘complicated’ life.
What did you see in me —
how could you know
after such a short time
and with only my words
as a guide to the land
I’d ‘escaped’ from ?
I was just a lone traveller
stopped for the night
at the inn where you were
with its comforting glow
seemed a refuge from all
and your voice sounded kind.
We relaxed like old friends —
chat was easy and free
and we laughed, ate and drank
with an intimacy
more fitting of lovers
sworn to each other.
Although not my type
you were terribly ‘nice’ —
funny and caring — all of those things
that warmed me towards you
made me feel safe
while Romance hid her face.
I didn’t deliberately egg you on
but something happened nevertheless
and your eyes told me
filled in every gap in conversation
knowing in the morning
I’d for certain be gone.
You lingered, drinking scotch ’til late
but never asked to stay the night.
I overslept, woken by
your knocking on my door
with little time to say goodbye —
you had to leave for work.
I still have that note somewhere —
your parting message pressed into my palm
“Come stay with me...”
(address and telephone number)
as though offering a plan —
a share of treasure.
I wasn’t ready then — I didn’t call.
I went back to my life
and you’ve become a distant memory
sweet but hazy thirty-odd years on.
yet still I wonder sometimes
which one of us was the bigger fool.
Envoi:
I dream about it — idolize
from time to time
when things get bad —
the life I might have spent with you
the way you told it
spelt it out that night.
Your cottage quaint beside the pub
the village picture-postcard neat
you playing organ in the church
the Morris dancing on the green
old world values — peace and quiet
a low-key modest bliss...
And you — an ordinary chap
not handsome but with wit and charm
must have long-forgotten me
and found a soulmate far more wise
who read the story in your eyes
and went for the happy ending.
after only one night ? —
those few hours spent
over dinner and talk
with a stranger chance-met
who was fleeing some ‘complicated’ life.
What did you see in me —
how could you know
after such a short time
and with only my words
as a guide to the land
I’d ‘escaped’ from ?
I was just a lone traveller
stopped for the night
at the inn where you were
with its comforting glow
seemed a refuge from all
and your voice sounded kind.
We relaxed like old friends —
chat was easy and free
and we laughed, ate and drank
with an intimacy
more fitting of lovers
sworn to each other.
Although not my type
you were terribly ‘nice’ —
funny and caring — all of those things
that warmed me towards you
made me feel safe
while Romance hid her face.
I didn’t deliberately egg you on
but something happened nevertheless
and your eyes told me
filled in every gap in conversation
knowing in the morning
I’d for certain be gone.
You lingered, drinking scotch ’til late
but never asked to stay the night.
I overslept, woken by
your knocking on my door
with little time to say goodbye —
you had to leave for work.
I still have that note somewhere —
your parting message pressed into my palm
“Come stay with me...”
(address and telephone number)
as though offering a plan —
a share of treasure.
I wasn’t ready then — I didn’t call.
I went back to my life
and you’ve become a distant memory
sweet but hazy thirty-odd years on.
yet still I wonder sometimes
which one of us was the bigger fool.
Envoi:
I dream about it — idolize
from time to time
when things get bad —
the life I might have spent with you
the way you told it
spelt it out that night.
Your cottage quaint beside the pub
the village picture-postcard neat
you playing organ in the church
the Morris dancing on the green
old world values — peace and quiet
a low-key modest bliss...
And you — an ordinary chap
not handsome but with wit and charm
must have long-forgotten me
and found a soulmate far more wise
who read the story in your eyes
and went for the happy ending.