Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Poetry 2016 / 023


I never imagined a love
that could encompass Argyll socks
and the diamonds she wears
on her diarrhoea coloured tanktops.
Hair shorter than my father's;
flatter chest, the better for the line
of an Oxford shirt
with cufflinks, natch,
and corded slacks that went out
before I turned teenager.
Wooden soled brogues with a tongue
banned before the watershed
but with a twinkle in her eye
and a love that fills me like a Brazil nut
fills the stone heart space of a date.

© Rachel Green 2016


Stephanie Wright said...

This is beautiful, a portrait of actual love. Lucky you.

Rachel Green said...

Thank you. I did striky lucky with the people I love.

Lu LeatherEagle said...

Thank you. I think I struck lucky too. I love you. Xxx

Rachel Green said...

aww. Ta.