It’s good to revisit – anywhere I mean;
revisiting puts back into place
the treacherous memories which hurl this disgrace
our sorry, worried and weirdsome ways.
And although I loved dear Karen as never I loved any soul before,
the wrong we were and did
made quite impossible the sought and hid
we tarried with;
and then it came my time again –
as foolish men are unwilling, silly, with sensible ken –
to confound and confuse
the ruse of younger child:
her wildness and beauty meant so much more to me
the day we met and had such grand repast –
or was it only grand for me?
And so ever since, dearest Claire you know I’m sure,
the very reason for all these rhymes which
sit so still, like currents deep in streams of gold.
And if anyone could fairly rid me of the sad we had,
the family we goodbye bade,
at the abandonment your mother and I once committed mad,
then it did have, I guess, in poetic retrospect,
to be the sight of you that night of wonder
in Dublin town, in Dublin town.
In Dublin town, that night.
And so now it is from other town, from Belfast brave and strong,
I leave again with empty hands;
no bands of marriage
nor bonds of easy conversation.
And the pain of continuing silence does take
its toll, like road of unseen
How much? What now? When ever? Why then?
And so the questions do proceed on their ever so wild tumbleforth;
and so the answers stand outside my ken; here and now;
then and when.
And if you stood before me straight,
no rancour nor anger
could I possible feel:
only the curious, puzzled bemusement of a man
who will only ever love,
never understand his women.
And if finally, in two hundred years or so,
my words to you, dear Claire, you know,
do end up collectable in winsome tome of
strange times past, left solid behind – those
and monologues unheard like birds of briefly leaning flight,
as record clear
of my affection and real love
for the grandeur of your
voice and smile,
and the iron will,
and the firmest of lives, striven truly tough,
oh, the stuff you have done …
… so just hear this now:
always loved by me you’ll find yourself;
always loved by me,
until my tomb.