The church bell rings out,
Sunday seems to bring out the best in folks,
pokes me in the chest, says,
‘it might be for the best, if you tried to sleep’
but keep my ears peeled, eyes closed, lips sealed,
reach out to touch,
love her so much
responds dramatically, using words ungrammatically and then quite unilaterally decides to take the lead.
I feed her need as she feeds mine, unaware that each and every time the bonds become those hills and peaks we climb together.
Later when we’re drinking tea and thinking that the church bell rung for me,I ask her,
‘did it ring for you?’
she takes my hand again and shows me one more time just what to do,
Moaning quietly the words,
‘I so love you’
I love her too.
John Smallshaw ,57 years old and now writing for fun.He works in the West End of London.He gets his inspiration from surfacing memories and sights of the city,there is something to inspire everyone who have eyes that will see.His education was mostly on the riverbanks and canal-ways of Lancashire as he really did not like going to school,His favorites poets are,T S Eliot,Shelley,Auden &Young. His website link www.johnsmallshaw.com.