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I look at your eyes, still soft
But heavy with the weight of years
And  recall the days
When our bodies roared
With impetuous passion

And we made love

On tolerant beaches
Bathed in salt foam
And clothed in seaweed
Under the offended noses
Of the golf-clubbed prudes

We made love

Skyclad on the
Pagan Hill, offering
Our desire to an Ancient deity,
Defiant as the demagogues
Tried to keep us apart

 We made love

In a picnic area
By the side of the road
When more urgent hungers
Kept us from our
Chicken  sandwiches

And we made love

In the midnight portals
Of the Town Hall.
Restraint and some clothing
Discarded on the steps
As the civic lions stood watch


We made love

In the quiet of a railway Station
While oblivious commuters
Passed by us, going home
to abandon the remnants
of another futile day

 We made love

While others made fortunes
And pursued happiness
In the security of numbers;
Our fortune lay in the laughter
shared and memories we made.

Now

In the mists of autumn
Where the chill gnaws our flesh
And the forest sheds its colours
The way we are shedding ours
Your head rests on my shoulder

I slip my arm around you
And whisper in your ear
Should we make love or
would you prefer a cup
of  hot chocolate dear ?”