Sabatha of the Twenty Eight Stars.

Lifting the veil that only I can lift
I meet your eyes, blue and piercing,
seeing me as I truly am.

Debussy on the radio
reminds me that your home in France
may soon become a distant dream,

and my beloved view of the Seine
an umbered text book photograph
pressed between two dusty covers.

Everything we both hold dear
taken from us for no reason
except we speak a foreign tongue,

our faces    pale    as a Yorkshire rose,
our talk discrete    between ourselves.

And religion also plays a part,
you wear a veil, I wear a cross,
two symbols that are mocked and hated.

But hope burns deeper than despair,
Because hope is a child of love,
Not of deceit and phoney war.

So when I dreamt of you last night,
your sad face lifted up to mine,
I knew that we are safe and well

and strongly bound together.
Love cannot be destroyed by loss,
or faith by separation.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
July 29th. 2016. - September 5th. 2016.
April 20th. 2020