I was thinking of visiting you
By now you will be mystified by leaves
Haunted by squirrels and small slow maggots
Fingering and boring into the sainted bark.
I feel you in the sunset when the shadows
Skitter over my hands and upturned face.
In the night I hear your low thrumming breath
The way of sleeping which is simply rusting
Composting dreams into mole hills.
Bracken sprays its spores across the humus
The deer rise astonished
Their bright muzzles wet with nuzzling
The mush of viridian and sap green grass.
I truly think the forest took you.
I swallow the juice-truth and it neither comforts
Nor disturbs; as in a deep wisdom
Or a mournful song, or the peet-peet
Of the little owls, or the spread of light
From a lit orb; I could go on
Weeping into the chasms of my heart
Stumbling along word paths
Searching in all the godly places-
The stupid lost loving little life of a beetle.
Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018.
Picture shows detail of a winter scene by the artists and poet
Earthworks painting by Veronica
Existential White Rabbit
Everyone wishes the moon would talk to them
Secretly, they believe they know her better
Than all her many lovers
Thom sings our favourite lullaby
The book falling from his hands
Into our laps, it is our book.
drink me, go on
it’s black as night again
moon clock, I digress;
O Inchoate Bloody Universe
Where we search for magic
That isn’t there.
In Dome Way, I see the attic
Where the telescope resides
The satin box, his things, his mysteries…
I’d sit in the dark again shivering
Just to hear the peeps of that crazy owl
The one you called Ethelbert-
How I miss the crease above your thumb!
Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2017
Painting by Veronica Aldous
I am not one of many; I am one who knew
The volutes of your labyrinth
A sliding hand on the inner skin
The wall where pain had snagged
And wrought its patterns now overlaid
With sorrow’s bark; some sores still wept
With my hand which heeded pits and scabs
And made them call, O I said
O you replied
You whispered of his scarlet sash
and I said;
Corals are living bones.
Veronica Aldous 2017 All Rights Reserved
The NotSo Stranger
I am tasting you from afar
Touching your worn coatsleeves
Thrusting my ghosthands in your pockets
This is a healing with cold dark apples
Rolling from the thorny branches
Pitting the snow with blue shadows
The bed sheets are ice and the town is silent
I saw you once- an ink stain on white paper
Spreading delicious furry strands
I gasp at the memory
No matter how long you take
You are coming some day
Making me laugh in my sleep
You don’t need to be anything better
I will understand the blackbirds
Of your kisses, when you alight
From the train…
Veronica Aldous 2017 All rights reserved
I made you sing
Words as black
On the frozen weald.
Veronica Aldous 2016 all rights reserved, art and poem.
They cut through the hillside revealing the light.They found me with my coat sleeves fraying in soft threads. Velvet eyed in the twilight, as stunned a moonstruck doe!
With the door hanging on its hinges as though it no longer fitted its frame.
I asked you where you were going; you turned slightly but I could only see the hill beyond, gleaming as if it would take you forever.
I have your hair wrapped round my finger that will not let me marry.
The moon clock is never telling the right time now. I sift the leaf mould with this little gold sieve; trying to augur the crystals, the worms and the stones, the telling of what happens now…
Words and photograph by Veronica Aldous 2016 all rights reserved
Harbours are where we hide our eyes
A mutual love of grey green sea
Legs stretched out, brick wall behind
We survey the differences
How your hands seem less sure
How some silence is an alembic
I weigh up a resentful solitary boat
Rusting on its moorings
A forgotten oar left rotting
You are looking at your beer
The gods have sent you some fire –
I am hurting
Tide slaps the pulleys
You hurt more
I feel yours more than mine
Yearning to watch you sleep.
VeronicaAldous 2016 all rights reserved