Friday, 4 January 2013


Another crappy old day in work so I have been reading old poetry since I came home, this is one from a Friday back in January 2004. I miss those days, nostalgia aside, I really do. I think you do too, maybe we all do.  

I gather stems, of elder flowers,
Crush them, ornately, with my fingertips.
Relish the delights of their
Flowery juice.
In my garden, on the riverbank,
We drink,
I’d like to blackmail you.
Cut out red hearts made of sugar-paper,
Sending them to you,
For tease value,
Oh how I love you.
The wickedness,
The deception.
Our summer memories are in the past,
Our past, the times we have breathed through.
I will always love you.

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