Seasounds at Fanore, Co. Clare
February always brings me to love poetry and this is a poem that I hold very dear.
If, at your desk, you push aside your work,
Take down a book, turn to this verse,
and read that I kneel here, pressing
my ear where on your chest the muscles
arch as great books part, in seagull curves,
bridging the seasounds of your heart,
and that your hands run through my hair,
draw the wayward mass to strands
as flat as scarlet silk-thread bookmarks,
and stroke my cheeks as if smoothing
back the tissue leaves from chilly,
plated pages, and pull me near
to read my eyes alone, then you shall see,
silvered and monochrome, yourself,
sitting at your desk, taking down a book,
turning to this verse, and then, my love,
you shall not know which one of us is reading,
now, which is writing, and which written.
(Source: Staying Alive, edited by Neil Astley, 2002: Bloodaxe Books).
Perhaps you’d care to tell me about your favourite love poem/s.