One Hour Friend

I take many rail journeys and love to observe people. This poem is a reflection on an old man reading a book...it may even be self-reflection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I don’t want to get lost in books,

In the imaginary world of other lives,
Nodding my head on the pm train
Pretending I am interested
Intellectual
A patron of the Arts.
I don’t want to look lonely,
Living my life through fictional characters,
Displaying to you that I am clever,
But I’m not!
Just bored,
My own life a fiction.
I read because Radio 4 said I should.

 

I need to keep up you know.
Be one of the crowd,
Talking with banal intelligence at the party.
Almost saying I know the author,
But I don’t.
I’m just a lonely old codger on a train,
Saying to you by the holding up of the cover page,
I am lonely and I am old…
Please talk to me.
Ask me what the book is about,
And I will tell you all my life,
My family
My travels
My work and has-been years.
I’ll appreciate the attention,
The moment’s friendship.
Then when you’re gone,
I’ll hold the cover page up again
And find another one hour friend.http://www.amazon.co.uk/North-East-Eden-Tranquility-Darkling/dp/1470109565/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374222010&sr=1-1&keywords=north+east+in+eden

In Memory

In memory of my mother who departed from us five years ago today.

Sailing Away

Five years since you set sail on endless oceans,
We watched as you serenely left the quay;
Slipping the hawser that bound you to our shoreline,
You heaved onto the spirit’s boundless sea.

Our close horizons could not keep you anchored,
This harbour was too small for you to bide;
Your vessel strained to catch the fairest breezes
To launch you safe upon celestial tides.

We watched as you pushed slowly through the harbour
And took the swelling of the heaving sea;
And when your vessel dipped below the sight-line,
We felt forever and eternity.

Where are you now, we ask as we are mindful
Of all the days you walked upon our shore?
What great mysteries have you discovered
To keep you from our heartland and our door?

Whatever Cosmic Islands tempt your vessel
Still further from this bleak temporal shore;
Deep within our hearts the tide of memory
Brings welcome sightings of your ship once more.

Sometimes we too are found around the harbour,
Preparing crafts as life bids us to do;
In time we’ll slip our moorings and head seaward,
Expectant of the moment you’ll heave-to!

So as upon that endless tide you move
We trim our sails and think of you with love.

© David McLoughlin-Tasker – York – March 2011