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Bluebells

You were addictive as black coffee
I couldn’t stay away
more dangerous than a thunderstorm
lovelier than bluebells
cooler than an icicle
sometimes full of malice
I would blanch and be silent
when you raged.
Fumbling with your buttons
shy and incredibly sexy
you were a pale white flower
mine to hold.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

Starved

You starved yourself
living at the gym
until you were so toned
your cheekbones
were protruding stones
your legs ladders.
You had a hunger for celery
the rings on your fingers were loose
and slipped. To me
you needed fattening
and I plied you with pastries.
You hissed and jogged away
I was mortified. I knew you kept
nothing down, your mirror
showed you plump and curvy
I was insane with worry.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

The Rain

You loved the rain
would curl up like a cat
and read by the fire
terrifically content.
You’d toast your long legs
your fingertips would patter with the rain
I would make you coffee
while you chain-smoked
I prayed it would rain forever.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

Bud

As you hung the washing
we talked about divorce.
Later I found you
stepping a little dance.
When I left
you posted on Facebook
a spring bud
and I knew you were happy
to be freed.
It hurt me
and we don’t talk now
or listen together to the rain.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

Glimmering

You were glimmering
more mystic than the moon
I felt older than its craters
you were lithe and long limbed
I stumped along
you were spring snows
fresher than dawn rain
breathtaking as mountains
I was moody, grim and fey
like quicksand to your soul.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

Blue

I remember the fallen stones
the hawthorn berries
and nettles like a plague.
How the weather changed
the hills were enveloped
puddles wet my toes.
We came to a lawn
then a ruined barn
and more nettles.
Birds circled
then with strange suddenness
the sky was clean and blue.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

River

The strong brown mystic river
flows leisurely and broad.
When the clouds dry up
when alders lean into the wind
when the sky is smoking
the colour of apricots
and the round red sun
is apocryphal,
loud river water
rolls with many stones
down to the beach.
It is magical
how wide the river becomes
carrying sand and silt;
it sings as it meets the sea.

Robert James Berry
Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry

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