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First Love.

In the midst of the crowd

A wild girl smiling -

Hair fragrant as forests -

Eyes midsummer blue -

The long handled bag hung over her shoulder

Twisted and swung like a garden swing 

Attached to a swaying bough.

"I wish she would sit next to me" I murmured

Into the depths of my half filled glass.

"I would rather chat until the rafters rattled

Than sit by myself and quaff".

Outside in the night the church bells were ringing.

And lo and behold

Without asking,

Not knowing

How I would react to her forceful presence,

To the weft and the warp of her long winded stories,

& The nervousness

She had buried beneath them,

She sat down so close we were nearly touching

And straight away told me her name.

Dear reader, I did not marry her,

Our love was too strong to make that mistake.

We were not influenced by the church bells ringing.

But the conversation we started that evening

Has continued for half a century or more,

And the warmth of her arm at ease on my shoulder

Recalls that first night when we talked until dawn.

Outside in the darkness the church bells were ringing

To proclaim a miracle that was not ours to name.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.

May 8th. 2022.

Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Walking on Water. (2) After the Storm.

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Trevor J Potter's Art: Babes in Arms. The Dark Legacies of Total War. (Re...

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Trevor J Potter's Art: Alma.of Sarajevo.

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Birthday.(Completed Version).

Today is my birthday, 

The commencement of my New Year;

April twenty seventh nineteen forty three,

The only true Year Zero;

"In the beginning God" - simply a metaphor?

I burn some incense.

Grey smoke, slowly rising, fills this small room

Until every corner is hazy,

Concealed in the fug of a dream.

Dreams fade quickly, just like a dampened fire.

I whisper my fears to the face that haunts the mirror

But expect no urgent reply.

The mirror can only show Now, never tomorrow,

The past is also omitted from its remit.

This mirror is just too honest. I name it an enemy.

Today is my birthday,

The day in which I recall what I cannot recall,

My first encounter with heat and cold and light.

"In the beginning God", but then I did not know that.

The future was also a blank, the past already redundant.

I glance at the clock. Midnight. Time shows no mercy,

My birthday already over. I turn off the kitchen light.

It is now too dark to wish "good night" to the mirror.

God parting the dark from light claimed all was good. 

Perhaps I don`t disagree.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.

April 27th. - 28th. 2022.

This poem came to me at 11 pm. and I finished the first version at 3 am. My computer is in the kitchen and I wrote straight onto my Blog page. I rarely do this because poems take time and can go through several revisions and transformations. It is like druiving a fast car in the dark.