Morning, Girl & Other Poems


Morning, Girl

I am writing to you in the dark,
Because when the morning light comes
I will be drifting on a sea of sleep,
Lost in the swell of my dreams.

I am writing to you in the dark,
Because I want to be there when you wake
To whisper “good morning” across the pillows
And keep you warm with my body’s heat.

I am writing to you in the dark,
Because you are my morning girl;
You are what a thousand sunrises look like
And your hand is the warm sunbeam on my skin.

The Shakespeare Code

Lacking any worthy words to say
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Tell you how lovely you are to me
How much more temperate you seem to be.

Or, because my words are second grade,
Say “thy eternal summer shall not fade”?
I have no doubt at all that it’s true
That beauty will always be found in you.

I’m worried my humble words might bore
But I’ll tell you what scares me even more
That it might well make you run away
If I compare thee to a summer’s day.

Afternoon Tea

You sat on my sofa
in a blue sweater
reluctant to talk about yourself
not knowing what to say.

I babbled, but inside was
speechless, savouring every
little piece of you that
was given away.

I made you tea
in a cup that was almost as big as your face
but you didn’t look ridiculous
drinking from it.

We had our first hug
in the doorway as you left
I never wanted
to let you go.

Perfection’s Corrections

Perfection ought to be taken down:
I was wrong in two ways, you see.
Her hair’s not gold, it’s chocolate brown,
And she’s actually five foot three.

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