My Love, while you still visit
(these surrounds of disturbed conceit)
how can this Autumn be confined?
challenge the season’s movement
stranded as our bed is unnerved
it is your will to remain boundless,
this worn heart a carapace in lyric
sunk deep the roots of our Eden
hauls brooding mornings forth,
your laugh carillon in the rain
though most of us is now transit
(I have found that silver brooch),
knowing how brief the last fallow
Winter Go, let me have tomorrow
James Walton Poetry 