In the Woodrow
through the meadow
from the Sluice down to the sea
further than all the miles I’ve walked
these words will carry me
Past the harbour
hard, I labour
to reach that distant headland
over the crumbling crags and cliffs
to rest upon the sand
In the evening
with the weaving
of the tide, seaweed and shore
from coast to coast, or east to west
I could not love you more.
Until daybreak
though my mind aches
I would watch the whole night through
just to see you softly breathing
and to sing these words to you.
Experiments in Fiction 
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