Present
What can I give you, that you do not have
and can presently keep?
The party wrap pristine between
the much you want, and the little you need
is folded anew with a familiar kiss
tight-lipped round the things I wish
to give, that will not be.
And yet I wish for you unfettered fun!
Endless play and tenderness and tea,
the glory of this afternoon’s long sun;
her olive warmth on your riverside arms
remembered still when sleeves are gone
reclined on fairer banks of dappled grass
or your mind absorbed in some good task
of humming isolation.
I wish for you no restlessness, regret or shallow envy,
full freedom from the many petty thieves
of serpentine comparison, ennui and plenty.
I wish for you perpetual scent of lavender,
pistachios, cut lawns and sweet pastries,
the anticipation of cosy fireside crime
a completed crossword, a sea breeze,
of crisp white linen, the thrill of the drive,
garden evenings and summerhouse nights
for dull times to quicken, sorrows to ease,
for simple passions to steadily grow,
for the vessels of fate and time to be kind,
for the current of contented hours to slow
and drift ever more sweetly, as would I be
by your side.
