Memory hurts – our hearts are stung

But sometimes I think the pain is for

Not a particular place but more...

The leaves are embracing the sky

It’s sick how they WRITHE so, like Uriah Heep

And stroking and kissing, so craven, oh weep...

We Argue – harmony has some bum notes

Uninterrupted bliss is not our scene

My poems suggest our love has nothing mean...

She sees me off to go shopping

Loving wife of older man

He’s fit though, he’s no also-ran...

And now the gold and mauve and pink

Of sunset fades and darkness falls

And evening crowds and then we think...

We’d had bad words but now were fine

In the night she went to pee

Muttering something, the tone a sign...

I love the times you call me a cunt

Though some might think it an affront

But I still bliss in knowing this...

The leaves hang low now with the weight of summer,

Swallow you up along the sun-flecked path

Only your legs I see...

I don’t deserve fame

Nor the words “Well done”

Deserving only blame...

When I think about Tom

I stop thinking

Where’s cash coming from...