A lyrical Poem for Lily. (Revised).

The night is so warm that I almost believe
that I am standing on the rocky shore
of Lake Como on midsummer`s morning,
not strolling through London on All Souls Eve.

I am thinking - thinking - thinking of you,
snug as a chrysalis in your bed,
observing star clusters divide the night
between the emptiness and the light.

I walk in a daze through the silent streets,
and remember your voice down the telephone
as we conversed together for the very first time,
the sun rise out shone by the verve of your speech.

And although I have been told that love is purblind
the sound of your voice filled my mind with pictures
of a wild child dancing as she laughed down the phone
in a room I have never seen.

October retreats from dazzle to darkness,
but today we back tracked to the end of the Spring
when the world is ablaze with sudden beginnings
and even old biddies trip fleetly and sing.

And you are as young as this morning is new,
but the world that you love I was not born know.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 29th. - 30th. 2016.
February 21st. 2017.