___ Evening Song (Adrian Henri)

'I will come to you when the light has gone . . .'

I will come to you when the light has gone
When the sea has wandered far from its shores
And the hedges are drenched in evening
I will come to you when the light has gone

I will come to you when the day has gone
When butterflies disappear in the dark
And the night is alive with tiny wings
I will come to you when the day has gone

I will come to you when the night has come
And morning glories swell in the darkness
Birds lie wrapped in nests of silence
I will come to you when the night has come

I will love you till the day has come
Trees and fields revealed in the morning
Birds awake and sing the sunrise
I will love you till the day has come.


___ Her Song (Brian Patten)

For no other reason than I love him wholly
I am here; for this one night at least
The world has shrunk to a boyish breast
On which my head, brilliant and exhausted, rests,
And can know of nothing more complete.

Let the dawn assemble all its guilts, its worries
And small doubts that, but for love, would infect
This perfect heart.
I am as far beyond doubt as the sun.
I am as far beyond doubt as is possible.


___ Comeclose and Sleepnow (Roger McGough)

it is afterwards
and you talk on tiptoe
happy to be part
of the darkness
lips becoming limp
a prelude to tiredness.
Comeclose and Sleepnow
for in the morning
when a policeman
disguised as the sun
creeps into the room
and your mother
disguised as birds
calls from the trees
you will put on a dress of guilt
and shoes with broken high ideals
and refusing coffee
run
alltheway
home.


___ Dial-a-Poem (Adrian Henri)

a poem
instead of a phone call
a jewel
exchanged
for a green apple
or an empty station
two minutes
of silence
away from the red-framed world
outside

a song
for a kiss
a kiss
for an apple
an apple
for a jewel
a jewel
for a poem
a poem
instead of a phone call
I didn't make
last night.


___ Sometimes it Happens (Brian Patten)

And sometimes it happens that you are friends and then
You are not friends,
And friendship has passed.
And whole days are lost and among them
A fountain empties itself.

And sometimes it happens that you are loved and then
You are not loved,
And love is past.
And whole days are lost and among them
A fountain empties itself into the grass.

And sometimes you want to speak to her and then
You do not want to speak,
Then the opportunity has passed.
Your dreams flare up, they suddenly vanish.

And also it happens that there is nowhere to go and then
There is somewhere to go,
Then you have bypassed.
And the years flare up and are gone,
Quicker than a minute.

So you have nothing.
You wonder if these things matter and then
As soon as you begin to wonder if these things matter
That's when they begin to cease to matter,
And caring is past.
And a fountain empties itself into the grass.


___ Aubade (Adrian Henri)

I mourn for something that was never there
Remind myself of times a year ago:
The scent of roses in the morning air.

In this small room the senses all declare
You were with me, my love, and yet I know
I mourn for something that was never there.

Mist hides the hills, the season is so unfair,
Left here I sit and watch the summer go,
The scent of roses in the morning air.

Bees can't resist the honeysuckle's snare.
Frantic as they are, clumsy and far too slow
I mourn for something that was never there.

Thoughts of your eyes, the morning in your hair,
Lost like a leaf against the river's flow,
The scent of roses in the morning air.

Time will not stop: your careless hand will tear
The faded snapshot, all that was left to show.
I mourn for something that was never there,
The scent of roses in the morning air.