I WILL NOT BEG

I will not beg from you

   some favour or reward

                   that I earn through merit

                   or need from desire

                   or want for a collection

                   or seek for amusement

                   or procure with sympathy.

And I am not offering

   a prize or present

          that is there for the taking

          or that cannot be refused

          or will blow away your inhibitions

          or will be the right technique

          or give a reason for your life.

They’re all one-way traffic.

   But if we are just us

          and there’s no thought of give or take

          or better still no thought at all

          no fencing or manoeuvring

          no plans or stop watches

          no future ties

          or present afterthoughts:

the unity of time and place

is shattered by our union.

THEN YOU CAN SAY YOU HAVE LOVED

Then you can say you have loved
       When through crackling analogue
                you rise to the drama of Dorset and Hardy. 
       When Chopin can drown you with calm,
                though jumpy and scratched.
Then you can say you have loved.

Then you can say you have loved
       When Van Gogh can colour intensely
                your working kitchen or postered bank.
When Rodin is youth-catching rounded 
                though bird-fouled and tainted
Then you can say you have loved.

Then you can say you have loved 
       When your lover’s anguished face
                is tear-drawn, tired and conscious-bare
       and you gently kiss her swollen eyelids,
                softly untangling her knotted hair:
Then you have said you can love.

HEDGEHOG

 A little pile of soggy English autumn leaves

 rises and moves slowly through the bushes.

 A weasel peers anxious from its long grass,

                                     and breathes heavy.