Friday, 23 October 2020






If you were an apple, I’d be tempted to take

a bite. More than just one, offered in your own

outstretched palms up, to catch the sun ripe

in burning, some enchanted late summer eve.

Together, beneath shades of cool, forgiving

bower, stretch in sheltered heaven’s harbour,

shower all apples, wind-falling we lie tasted

cradle me to you in warm long hours wasted.

Those holes you wear weep, they speak tales

of driven nails and how love shall not prevail,

waltz three four in masks so strong, conceal

from you but not us - how storms, how hail,

how currents strong will drive all ocean spray

to shock with grinding teeth battlement rocks

once proud: envious watch all ticking clocks

stand still. On Cornish cliffs pass me your scar

and I will wear it, my love, upon ruffed shirt.

To brave all your tempests will I make it mine

like apples you cast before me, set me chasing

love’s arrows, in heartbeat and pulses racing,

crusader in only your name, make me kneel

to dub shoulders with your tempered sword,

we both will come together under sworn words.

Crisp on my watering tongue, tart apple strong

singing songs in juice that bind our love long.

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