Pure Romance

Like Almitra, I wove him clothes of welcome,
Embarrassing him with riches from my heart -
Gestures quietly gracious, unremarkable,
All glamour-less, but transcendental, smart.

Despite my sacrificial sense of giving,
The evidence, reviewed in his defence,
Revealed a soul wise in agape's art,
And prophet's craft that modelled pure romance.

His ship, reloaded, pulls away from shore.
I wave at him, the vision slowly vanishing.
He does not turn, his sights already set
On other welcomes, worthier romancing.

The truth is bitter, sweetness easily sours.
The illusion the most perfect trails a darkness
Hard to fathom in its morbid depth.
Love, unregistered, assures the purest anguish.

I Vow

Whenever you are near,
I vow to freeze, to disengage;
To cover myself in a cloak
Of inscrutability,
And to nod, as to anyone,
But eye-evasive;
While instantly conjuring up
Sage acquaintances,
Who held sway over me,
Without impinging or prying,
But who let me be, as blessed,
And let me pass, immaculate as a nun.

^

Biography

I am from Killarney, County Kerry and am professionally-based in Dublin. I enjoy my garden and walking by the sea. Poetry is an occasional hobby which is a discipline that can generate order amidst confusion at numerous levels.
Seamus Heaney speaks of the unity of art and life, and I would add that we should attempt to take care that, in such a relationship, the emphasis is on art serving life. Rather big-headed for an absolute beginner in the public arena, but let's
start as we mean to go on! I am very happy to be part of this collection - thanks to Terry for the tip-off!