In this, the passion of our embrace
Stir embers of a fire lit long ago,
When trembling we did touch and light apace
And nothing in the moon or stars said slow.
Now, Time’s hand has drifted off the hour,
Now, Love’s course has filled out in the run:
We – older – muse gentler in the bower,
And contemplate on what is, what is done.
Sweet! To dream and laugh and chase across the day,
Sweet! To live out our lives and easy be;
The bedroom’s muse is more than our bed-play,
Where two the better better see .
For we have made a life, and that life lives,
And best to be ourselves, each takes – each gives.
July 00
This sonnet is all about ageing, and love; how s*x becomes less frantic, and talking and remembering becomes more important; how a two-way conversation (in more than one sense of the word) is very fulfilling and strangely allows us to be ourselves.
