A Pattern of Veils. (Revised).

Soft delicate colours.

December rain drifting through greenery.

Droplets glistening on your skin
Reflect the bright face of the moon
Observed floating above a sheen of clouds.
Faults in the glass distort the imagery,
Trees and houses outside our bedroom window
Could be the fleeting shadows of an underwater city.

I am sure of few things, sometimes only your smile,

The touch of your hand in the silvery dark.

                                *

I wake up with a start,
You are not here beside me.

I walk from room to room in a somnambulist daze.
The coats are all dusty. The hats have turned grey on the hangers.

You are nowhere to be found.

I was sure you were with me all through the frosty night:

I can still feel the warmth of you hair on my face and my fingers;
Remember the light in your eyes when we made love.

                                 *

Soft, delicate colours.

December rain drifting through greenery.

I walk out into the garden to look for the last of the roses.

In a month or two you should be back here with me,
(Your aunt has informed me you have a date on your calendar.
Your passport in order. Your freedom to travel permitted).
But this endless waiting distorts time. The kitchen clock ticks slowly.
It is only five years, but it feels more like one hundred.

The morning rain cold on my bare skin.
The wind is stinging my cheek bone.

I turn to the north and shout out loud your name.

This garden is dappled with a patina of memories.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
Sketched 14th. - 29th. August 2018.
Reimagined and completed 30th. December 2019.
For Ivy, dreaming of a happy and settled New Year

Trevor J Potter's Art: September 1st. 2018. (Completed Poem).

Trevor J Potter's Art: September 1st. 2018. (Completed Poem).:                   1 . Scholars drawing arbitrary graphs Have decreed the onset of autumn Although the autumnal equinox Is more than thr...

Three Poems Written on Christmas Day.

The Complete Poems of Li Ch`ing - chao.


   This little book of poems in my pocket,
A whole way of life sheltered from the rain;
             Black lines on white pages.



                        Missing You.


Last night when I opened the window to touch the rain,
        Your tears ran down my cheeks, cold and salty,
      As though your face was pressed up close to mine.
        And yet our home was emptied of your laughter
      So long ago                        I cannot count the days.

         Christmas without you is no longer Christmas.
            This little book of poems that you gave me
              Is now a mute reminder of your absence.

                Black lines printed onto fragile pages.

        Streaks of winter rain course down the window.



                           The Simple Gift.


          This little book of poems that you gave me.
                Petals falling like a shower of snow.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
25th. December 2019.

Trevor J Potter's Art: December Daffodils. (Newly Revised Version).

Trevor J Potter's Art: December Daffodils. (Newly Revised Version).: Daffodils in December? I wish they would fold back into sleep, we can wait a little longer for the spring. Your face on the pillow; th...

No Looking Back. (Postscript to my Japanese Calendar Sequence).

Farewell my Japanese Calendar.
Farewell my Hokusai prints.
For a year you have delighted me each morning
When I checked my appointments for the day.
You have taken my mind on a long and sinuous journey
Through fields and brooding mountains,
Beside lakes and mysterious rivers,
And across the echoing depths of dream filled seas.
For a year you have taught me a new way of seeing
That has transformed my perspective on the art of daily living.
For a year you have slowly taught me
The clear mindset of Zen.
But now I must put you away, among books in my bedroom library,
A mute but tangible memory of a strange and remarkable year.
And I must continue my day to day journey, each hour melding into
                                                                                                 another,
Until the pictures blur into strangeness,
And the future is simply a word.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter. 
December 17th. 2019.

Trevor J Potter's Art: This Year December is Bleaker Than Ever..

Trevor J Potter's Art: This Year December is Bleaker Than Ever..:     The oceans are losing their oxygen. Fish are choking - like children on smog. It seems that winter comes early this year.     Rivul...

This Year December is Bleaker Than Ever.(Revised).

       The oceans are losing their oxygen.
  Fish are choking - like children on smog.
Before Autumn dawned the red leaves fell.

    Rivulets of hair on a white pillow.
Soto calligraphy that can only be read
           By her attentive lover.

    She drops the newspaper onto the floor.
Gently she drops it - tears smudge her cheeks.
How could she live in this world without him?

His tenderness dances in the black stream of words.
       Only he understands the depths of her grief.
 Only he understands why she weeps this morning.

      "Our unborn children cry out for their lives.
Should we listen to them - or succumb to our fears?"


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
7th. - 8th. - 13th. December 2019.

Trevor J Potter's Art: The Wave. The Month of February. (New Re-written V...

Trevor J Potter's Art: The Wave. The Month of February. (New Re-written V...: We forget the boats Barely buoyant in a trough of raw sea. The giant claw of water poised above them Dominates this blue world Almost c...

Trevor J Potter's Art: Tussy. .

Trevor J Potter's Art: Tussy. .: Tussy was not buried, Not swaddled by black earth Evolving into hillocks and                         dark hollows Gradually, season by ...