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.
Walking along the seashore is my place of endless inspiration. I’ve realised over the last while that it’s all to do with the ever-changing nature of the sea and the many lines that it offers. These are lines that are full in their own right but which invite thoughts, reflections, words, sentences, paragraphs, pages …..
So many colourful stones with lines ~ not even requiring that one’s writing is straight ~ a perfect art gallery or pages begging to be filled.
And what about the horizon? That line that stretches the eyes and mind and makes one think of the breadth, width and depth of life.
And in-between are the waves ~ sometimes only the tiniest ripples, other times massive breakers carrying one along in great surges.
There are times, too, when the huge canvas of the lined sand on a beach like my precious Tramore provides the ultimate inspiration.
The certainty that that the sea with its multiplicity of lines is ever-changing brings a newness with every tide that encourages, hand-holds and sets the pen of the heart and mind free like a kite sailing in the wind.