Two Poems

FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN

I had not expected this at my age:

all the muscles tightening in my throat,

my eyes welling up and glazing over

and palpitations in my ageing heart.

But more than this. I could wander around

the house, the streets outside and suddenly

your image would appear and then your voice

and I would engage in conversation -

Internally, of course, though it felt real.

I could hear you clearly, see you clearly

with that mischievous look from piercing eyes

and I would hold you close in an embrace.

I had not expected this at my age

and thought of the gap in years between us.

These things don’t seem to matter nowadays

and with this trend I felt myself at ease.

But deep down I knew it would never last,

your eyes were bound to rest on someone else

but what had been was bound to stay between

this grandad and his two year old grandson.

Jim Aitken

 

THE WHITE STICK

Like a blind man with his white stick

faltering sometimes on pavements,

only familiarity

and persistence can lead him on.

For ourselves when the fog descends,

when we can’t seem to find our way,

the white stick of inspiration

can become a shaft of lightning

That transforms the darkness for us,

the white flash a wand in our hand

that gives us lasting expression;

the bright new dawn of our learning.

Jim Aitken