New Love at 66

Lying in bed with you,
a rare day of togetherness
in our busy independent lives,
separate homes, families,
allotments, weekly activities.

Trying to capture the moment in words,
your “nurturing, relaxing, reassuring,
comfort, security, healing”

arced like a brilliant rainbow
over my spreading English landscape,

dropped like a beautifully curved,
rising and falling crescendo
over my solid, deep, two-note chord,

“loving you”.


New Man at 96

Sitting in her room in the home,
surrounded by beautiful
pictures, ornaments, family photos,
she announced shyly,
“I have a man friend.
We sing nursery rhymes”.

I learnt he had two other lady friends
he sat with,
in the very public lounge.

I wondered how she felt,
seeing him with other women.

Did it bring back memories of
my dad’s more private infidelity,
after we had all left home?

Bringing his new woman,
younger of course, a doctor too,
to sleep with him in their double bed,
my mother banished to my room.

She was shocked into passivity,
complied, unable to protest.
I took her away.
She rebuilt her life, solo.

Now I watched and waited,
pleased at her pleasure.

Soon she told me he had died.

Never mentioned again.


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