Sketches on the Thames
Milady
Before you return to Oxford in the fall
allow me to court you at Wimbledon.
I'll pack light; I have little baggage.
You'll greet me at Heathrow with the face I remembered from last spring.
I'll wear my tunic, the one you bought me in Italy, and my man-bag
to make you laugh.
What shall we do first?
Oh I know.
You'll display me at the markets on Portobello Road,
force me to eat durians, spend my money. I mean our money.
We'll double deck our way to Trafalgar Square.
You'll hold me from behind and convince me we won't teeter over.
I'll ask you if you were referring to the bus.
Wait.
You will never believe this, but
some woman just told me that Big Ben just stopped
at the moment you kissed me on the back of my neck.
Chasing dusk, we'll row with Othello on the Thames.
Where I'll sketch your hair onto my paper
so I can comb through it in the winter
where memories need warmth from the cold.
Back at your flat
We'll dine on Shepherd's Pie and warm beer
And pretend that we like it.
Guess what?
I still have the coupon you gave me.
The one promising me a cup of you.
May I redeem it?
I'll depart with your scent on my scent
Wondering if—what we have to give each other—can swim the Atlantic.
But no blues
Look for me okay?
I shall return in a fortnight
With a pocketful of poems and two rings in my hand
Milady
©2006 Kevin Ward
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Be always safe,
Karen