You are my life: there’s no divide
Hard words could cause or temper bring
I love you more than being or thing
On earth was ever loved: inside
The soil of every angry scene
A new seed sends shoots, fresh and green
Good year, 1996
The breeze favoured me on Turnham Green
Urging me Brentford-ward long before
The bus arrived. Air had a silver sheen...
Through the dark and wind that gusts and bustles,
Beneath a sky the icy moon adorns
Along cold pavements where the dead leaf rustles...
