Tag Archives: love

A Hug

A hug spontaneously given.
Emotion
As an ocean
Wells up.
My cup is full
Yet the dull
Feel
Of an unreal
Embrace …
A girl’s pretty face.
Another time
Another place.

I have striven
To stand aloof
From the truth
And feeling
Yet my emotions are reeling
From a simple hug.
The fug
For a moment clears
And the truth rears it’s head.
Better an empty bed
Than meaningless words said
In pretence
And sense
Lost in arms
That hold no lasting charms.

The Moralist and the Flower

A moralist gazed upon a flower soft
And with delicacy coughed.
“’Tis most unseemly” said he
“To see
The bee
Make free
With thee.
Thou has forsook
The holy book.
Think on hell
And mark it well
Lest in torment you dwell”.

The flower spake
“Oh moralist forsake
This obsession
With the repression
Of girl and lad.
Wouldst thou have the whole world sad?
Can not you be glad
At the joy
Of maid and boy?

The moralist shook his grey head
And said
“Thou should dread hell’s fire
For desire
Is sin.
Satan enters in
And God destroys
Those who wallow in lustful joys.

The flower said, “breathe in my scent
And relent
Of strictures severe.
Come you near
And touch my throbbing heart.
Let me teach you love’s art.
Give me your hands,
And we will travel to undiscovered lands”.

The moralist did relent
And partook of the flower’s scent.
The heavens where not rent
And the sky’s great tent
Failed to fall.
Only the nightingale’s call
Filled the spring air
Where the lovers dallied without a care.

Hyacinths

Hyacinths on a gramophone.
Alone
They stood
On polished wood.
Their scent carrying me back
Down childhood’s track.
The flower’s smel
Blossoming in a wishing well
With a plastic handle.
My thought tangles
With the ivy that
In a bowl sat.

As a boy
My goal was joy.
The earth was good as the man.
I can
Recall
Honeysuckle on a garden wall
And roses, their scent
Is long since spent.
My grandfather went away
Yet in my heart he stays
As I lose myself, in spring days

Valentine’s Day

Roses red
Speak of bed
To some.
How life does run
On.
Soon Valentines will have come
And gone
As the pendulum swings on.

I doubt tomorrow will be fine
Yet women and wine
Are surely divine?
The line
Betwixt leg and skirt.
Lonleness does hurt.
Will she stay
On Valentine’s day?

“Ghosts of Chechnya” By Jenny Ensor

My acquaintance, Jenny Ensor, is looking for funding to turn her novel, “Ghosts Of Chechnya” in to an ebook. The synopsis on Jenny’s Unbound page reads as follows:

“Ghosts of Chechnya explores love and friendship, and the impact of war and terrorism on our lives. Georgie, a young London woman who’s been deeply hurt
in the past, tells the story. It begins in London in early 2005, the year of the bus and Tube bombings.

Georgie meets Russian former conscript soldier Nikolai in a pub after she is uplifted by the impromptu music he plays. Nikolai, newly arrived from Russia,
dreams of becoming a composer but for now survives as a low-waged casual worker.

Julian, a close friend of Georgie’s, admits he loves her and warns her to keep away from the Russian. But despite the concerns of both her father and Julian,
Georgie can’t resist Nikolai. He tells her of his experiences while serving in the Russian army, and seems haunted by a Chechen woman who showed him a
simple act of kindness, blaming himself for her death.

Georgie guesses that Nikolai is hiding something from her. She wonders if he will ever heal from the psychological wounds that war has inflicted. His music
– and their increasing closeness – seem to be the only things that keep him going.

Then London is shaken by terrorism. In the emerging climate of fear, Georgie’s father condemns Nikolai; Georgie must ask herself who the Russian really
is. Also, how well does she really know Julian, who can’t seem to let her go? As a net of shadowy threats tightens, Georgie must find out who she can trust
and who she should fear, before it’s too late.

This gripping, debate-provoking novel asks at how well we can ever know anyone; it also deals with reconciliation, forgiveness and the folly and suffering
of war. I strongly believe in this project and hope very much that you will decide to offer your support”.
For Jenny’s Unbound page please visit https://unbound.co.uk/books/ghosts-of-chechnya.

The Girl And The Oak

A girl passing through the wood
For a moment stood
Under an ancient oak.
The tree spoke.
“I have seen kingdoms rise and fall
And my branches have decked many a bridal hall.
But kings and lovers are all now dead”.
She heard not the words said
For earplugs fed
Pop music into her head.
Taking a knife she carved, “Lucy loves Tom”
Then, without a backward glance, she was gone.