by Paul Raworth Bennett
For a long-gone girlfriend who tried so hard to set me free.
How many ways can I ruin the eggs while you’re
Warming under the duvet?
How many ways can I mangle the notes while I’m
Singing your song out of key?
How many ways can I ink-stain my hands while I’m
Writing you some clumsy verse?
How many ways can I hold you real close while we
Dance to the light of the stars?
How many ways can I dodge through the crowd while I’m
Chasing your receding train?
How many ways can I plant a new garden while
You’re on a trip in the Spring?
How many ways can I fumble your bags
While we’re running back home to enjoy a few shags?
How many ways can we steam up the night
While we’re blissfully making up after a fight?
How many poems can I write with my tongue while you’re
Writhing around on the sheets?
How many ways can I spoon with you after we’ve
Come back from beyond the moon?
How many ways can I hold an umbrella while
Sheltering your hair from the rain?
How many ways can I caress your toes while I’m
Soothing your tired feet with mint?
How many ways can I dream about you when I’m
Asleep, awake, and between?
How many colours could I ever paint on the
Rich canvas that is your life?