BEFORE THE PAIN

You return to me you know.

Not through the linking of hands
Nor the medium’s mumbo jumbo
But by a subtle alchemy.

Take one hot day in summer,
Cloying, heady, no trace of breeze.
Add a sun just past its zenith
To the rasp and hum of flying things.
Blend colours, sounds and textures
And reduce to a kind of drowsiness.

But something more is needed
To tantalise the memory buds,
A molecular potpourri, so tiny,
So delicate, yet so potent.
Some fragrant herb that sets free
The tears, the years, the memories.

Fragments from another time
They gather - a sensual kaleidoscope
Of dreamy afternoons
When sensible folk were at siesta
While we took eager strolls
Through ancient olive groves.

Bare rock pokes through thin raw earth
The hazy sea dazzles, shimmers,
Beyond the fringe of tamarisk
Inflaming our senses with its beauty.
We lie entwined, our naked bodies
Bonded one to the other.

The pulses quicken,
Our passion quenched
By neither age nor ill,
Our lovemaking knows no restraint
Until a sound disturbs
That joyous alfresco union.

Frantic attempts at modesty, then
Your helpless laughter as Peeping Tom
Proves to be a curious goat.

Happy days
Carefree times

Before the pain.