Grains of Memory

Your table is a real table
sliced oak and oil-dressed
uneven surface like the road leaving the village
grains swollen from drowning emotions
- and spilled cups of tea

so many hands have smoothed it
over so many years
some anxious
some happy
- all loved

a few splinters are bulging from the corners
each a memory
some good
some bad
some probably just about the times the ashtray was missed
and maybe one where the beer bottle exploded
resting like a stained glass window
- the table ready to hear pre-night-out confessions

if it could talk
how many stories could it tell
- too many to worry about


next time we’re around it
we should give thanks
drift palms gently over the lines
a loose embrace
that clings tightly to the seams
- like the roots of our friendship.

Carry On

Weather-beaten hands struggle 
against the pulling weight of age 
and future fiefdoms
he tries gallantly
to slow the beat of time 
measuring success 
in only the moments
a smile touches his lips
staring into her eyes.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem; I genuinely appreciate it.

Please feel free to leave comments or constructive critiques; I’m always grateful for learning opportunities.

Take It Easy

Paul

Winter Walk

Zero degrees C
in the peak of midwinter
we wrapped up warm
in wool and polyester
pulled on our boots
thick with suede upper
and gripping rubber soles
primed and ready
to walk the forest
its floor frosted white
glamourising the
natural litter
of fallen acorns and amber needles
we held each others hand
through our scandi grey gloves
a) for support since I was clumsy
and b) for love
we looked out over
the blank frozen fields
and into the feeble glare of
a weakened winter sun
some chimneys breathed in the distance
a sign of life going on
while time stood still
as we tightened our hands
our minds raced
to what the future would hold
luckily for me
I still get to hold you.

Thanks for reading. Thanks to freestocks on unsplash for use of the image.

Take it easy,

Paul