Poetry 027: Gull

It baffled me to see gulls
this far in, away from the sea.
Probably as much as it did him
to see me – a man of colour –
this far from the metropolis.

I wonder whether
He thought it a hunger –
similar to that
of my winged counterparts –
that had led me to sing
Away from ‘home’,
and not the Love
Whose white hands I cling.

© Denis Adide 2012

Poetry 024: Snowdon

Today the sun shines
And I can see the roof
Of our solitary mount.

I kiss its merry heights,
Pivots for our memories
And joints for our delights.

I see the snow that
Like fresh water-lilies
Speaks of our love

The hillside meadows
Peppered with sheep
Like spots of time,

And in a daydream,
leap from the cliffs
And soar.

For that brief moment,
Heaven bows,
And I am not alone

The wind whispers in
Scents fresh, almost old,
Never forgotten,

And the little droplets
Ferried by the breeze
Soft upon my naked skin

Feel like a touch
Faint and free, almost cold,
Not forgotten

It’s like your warmth floats
With me, over the downs
Toward the open sea

From whose horizon
The assailing clouds rise
Barring me from the sunset.

When for night again,
You away, and I –
To silence – return

From the invisible hills,
With curtains drawn to sleep,
Missing you.

© Denis Adide 2010