The Return of the Traveller.

Displayed by the window
My miniature rose tree
Greets the hubbub of dawn
With a whisper of Spring
That lisps through the whole house.
It lights up your smile when you call.

This time your radio
Is packed in your suitcase
Along with the shower gel
Your pants and your nightie
Your copy of Oliver Twist.
You seem to be planning
A long term vacation,
Much more than a year and a day.

Your spot on the sofa
Has now been made ready
The cushions plumped up
The footstool in place.
The fridge has been stocked
With your favourite goodies
Along with the the milk shakes
The meat and the veg.

I have trimmed my rough beard
To eliminate straggle,
But believe me I wont cut it off.
And please keep your trainers
In the rack by the back door
And don`t scrub your teeth in my bed.

I have set down the lamp
By the miniature rose tree,
Closed the thick curtains,
Dimmed the bright light.
Our love is not blind,
It glitters with wonders.
I smooth down the duvet
And kiss you goodnight.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
March 8th. - 9th. 2018.
Since early childhood I have loved Alice Through the Looking Glass, and to a lesser extent, Alice in Wonderland. I think we all spend our lives balanced between fantasy and reality, even when we appear to be at our most concentrated and alert. I particularly love the state of mind present in very vivid dreams, and those hazy moments poised between waking and sleeping, when nothing is certain, nothing is concrete.