We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)



Oh, the lust I had 

for that man of magic!

He was drawn to me too.

Power and Karma fused.

But the rite disappointed ...

and we lived far apart.

Email, MySpace, facebook.

Years of friendship growing

to include our life partners.

Confidences shared

in deep understanding.

Workings across distance.

And, just occasionally,

an affectionate exchange

turning ever-so-slightly flirty.

For Friday Writings #131 at Poets and Storytellers United, we are invited to write about re-purposing something – or someone. So I couldn't help thinking of this particular magical collaborator, a one-time lover who became, by mutual choice, a longstanding friend instead. We were undoubtedly bonded by a powerful karmic tie; it seems we initially mistook the nature of the attraction. Or perhaps – as my time in his country was short, but our connection both fated and necessary – our guides made sure it would be almost impossible for us to resist interacting!



'How many carats should I weigh this love?'

This love

can’t walk on water

won’t fit your finger

doesn’t melt pain


promises nothing

rescues no-one.


This love

sees with the heart

walks through walls

gives the invisible


a dream that grows

real roses.

From my recent chapbook, Letters to a Dead Man,* released 

2023(This piece first written 1982. 

For Friday Writings #130 at Poets and Storytellers United, 

Magaly invites us to be inspired by a quotation from a book 

we've just read. I just read the delightful The Lost Bookshop 

by EvieWoods, in which one character tells another that a 

certain inscription in French 'means that one sees clearly only 

with the heart.' He then notes that it is a quotation from 

Antoine de Saint-Exupery – which is where I first came across 

it, ithe book The Little Prince, translated as: 'It is only with 

the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible 

to the eye' (the original source of my allusion in this poem – 

which, obviously, was not written for the present prompt, but 

fits it serendipitously). 

*Letters to a Dead Man is obtainable via my website 



What Do I Hear?



The one I lost when young

sends songs into my head

I think he does

I want to think he does:

songs of love.

I weep softly.

Is he, as I near my own end,

calling to me?


Long Travels

Not miserable or broken

not destroyed by grief


to inner song 

I journey far

the long paths of adventure

even without you

(you, always with me). 



What do you hear

cat of my heart

staring out at the dark

what do you see

beyond the glass?

Night after night 

it fascinates 

closed to me

without cat ears

cat eyes.


For words / phrases in first stanza of Long Travels, I acknowledge an account of one section of Maerad's journey in Alison Croggon's Pellinor series of fantasy novels – which, by the way, I highly recommend. Those books were also part of the inspiration for the whole of that piece.

Written for Friday Writings #129 What Do You Hear?