Loose Leaves



  Loose Leaves

  By

  Elaine Peake

 

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced

  in any form or by any means,

  including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise

  without the prior written consent

  of the copyright owner.

  © 2016 Elaine Peake

  Table of Contents:

  Homo Sapiens

  High-wired

  For the time being

  Lunchtime at the library

  Invisible

  You leave like a lover

  I’ve said

  Words

  Inspiration

  Late Joys

  Dark Skies

  Surprised by Snow

  From my Window

  I remember

  The Turn

  The Artist and the Angel

  The Wrong Kind of Apple: Interview with Snow White

  Aspen

  Homo Sapiens

  draw near all you who shiver in the dark

  come witness how a miracle begins

  from seemingly dead wood I’ll raise a spark

  to frighten each of you out of your skins

  the panting breath, the glance behind

  hope for forgiveness of your sins

  fear bristling angry through the mind

  as you work feverishly to make

  nature’s own secrets fast unwind

  a flame leaps out to make its mark

  the darkness seems to shift and shake

  leaves smoke and smoulder in its wake

  warmth floods your very soul but hark!

  behind you wolves begin to bark

  High-Wired

  first faltering steps

  as nervous hands

  push

  then withdraw

  go

  don’t look down

  you’re on your own

  enjoy the view

  applause

  find perfect balance

  now head up and smile

  there is no down

  in your mind’s eye

  the safety net

  virtual or real

  your thoughts create what is

  just

  don’t look down

  a wobble on the wire

  fear floods from heart to feet

  soon enough

  the sawdust moment

  still

  don’t look down

  For the Time Being

  Let me go gentle

  Don’t block me out

  Jettisoning everything

  Just to assuage your grief

  I am not round the corner

  Waiting to leap out at you for a joke

  Frightening you half to death.

  Maybe I am in another room

  Gone on ahead to do a recce

  If it helps you to think so, do.

  Perhaps, somehow, it helps me too

  And, sooner than either of us think,

  We’ll go exploring.

  But, for the moment

  Hold fast those memories you’ve stored away

  From childhood angst to bus-pass blues

  And all the glorious gain and loss between

  That’s where I’m living now

  pro tem

  Waiting for you.

  Lunchtime at the Library

  they’ve cleaned the city library up

  and outside too

  the curving slabs of smooth warm stone

  the sentry of a cenotaph

  stand as they were when new

  city workers on the clock

  each circumscribe a personal space

  gaze past poppies, stone and names

  inhabit individual worlds

  register no other face

  what if those names took flesh once more

  surfaced into air and sun

  with packs and puttees came to sit

  between the lunchers’ vacant looks

  the tupperware beside the gun

  asked for a Lucifer to light a fag

  wondering at this modern set

  what’s the use of worrying

  and was it all worthwhile

  we gave you this the freedom to forget

  Invisible

  he lives behind closed doors

  but that’s how it must be

  after the war to end all wars

  still able-bodied – surely he is glad?

  this hero who has seen and done such things

  and not come home stark mad quite mad

  he has a name a number too

  rolled round a medal’s bevelled edge

  with ribbons always bright as new

  another war, another sacrifice

  the peace of mind of two fine sons

  but their war never made him old

  his patriotic time already lost invisible

  and in the ground quite cold long cold

  You Leave Like a Lover

  you leave like a lover

  laughing as you fend off

  those startling early sunbeams

  two hours sleep

  the bed still waits unused

  we talked and talked

  and drank and sang and laughed

  until the neighbours mutinied

  so out you creep

  a sihouette against the day

  shoes in hand

  not quite sure where you are

  you leave like a lover

  tonight

  perhaps

  you may arrive like one

  I’ve said

  I’ve said I love you and it means

  I’ll be there when you need me most

  won’t check your phone or read your post

  I’ll eat meals made with aubergines

  save you the Christmas tangerines

  won’t nag you when you get engrossed

  I’ve said I love you and it means

  I’ll be there when you need me most

  if you’re late in I won’t make scenes

  I’ll always be your perfect host

  the final piece of unburnt toast

  the extra spoonful of baked beans

  I’ve said I love you and it means

  I’ll be there when you need me most

  Words

  when she said it I couldn’t believe it

  my whole being drew back

  my mouth said it couldn’t be true

  though my heart oozed doubt

  when they said it in twos and threes

  I began to look over my shoulder

  the world spoke, I shattered

  into a million syllables

  have you said the final word?

  you are walking away now

  from what we never said

  Inspiration

  Back to the five-barred gate

  Bo-peep crook inked and primed

  Brow furrowed

  I survey an open field

  Sun up sky blue scene set

  But where’s the crew?

  The first comes bleating

  Begging to be heard

  Before I can consider

  Through one small gap

  Romp the whole flock

  Heads legs and tails

  The black sheep as usual

  Loudest of all

  Then I see him

  Shaggy apart alone

  The hippy of the bunch

  And I know

  With his help

  I can knit a masterpiece

  Late Joys

  bright frocks broad smiles

  old friends in fine display

  new-forged
connections

  witness the measured step

  from one world to another

  moving in grace and light

  in lace and light

  forwards into a dream made real

  love comes full circle

  mysteriously resolves

  in ends and in beginnings

  full-throated song and heartfelt hopes breathe out

  wildflowers and warm stone

  reviving centuries of reverence

  and passion

  petals take flight and dazzle

  where loved and loving gather

  and with this shower of wishes

  Spring blooms in Autumn

  Dark Skies

  bold Orion on his back

  winks at Venus

  below the Southern Cross

  all the world through time

  should be in love with this

  swimming in the Milky Way

  in spangled suits like cosmic clowns

  claiming our kinship

  Odysseus on a hostile sea

  Odin on the sacred tree

  a lifetime’s lookings

  spinning in his sightless head

  Galileo Galilei

  while we wheel and blur

  with the world’s turning

  our eyes wide as forever

  Surprised by Snow

  lightly they go

  you’d hardly know they’d gone

  falling like snow

  no flake the same as any other one

  unique mosaics

  fretwork icing

  frames familiar sights

  a branch

  a stone

  sugar-coating on chrysanthemums

  outlilying the lilies

  ice-leaves now

  thick sheaves now

  drifting one giant feather duvet

  where all must sleep

  a world once seen and felt and peopled

  lives only in my head

  dead winter roses rise

  robed all in white

  the earth still turns

  though all is green and grown again

  frozen

  stilled life

  weighs

  heavy

  on the heart

  From My Window

  the daffodils are out around the tree

  this surly sunless morning

  taking their turn at spreading

  yellow light

  in small but perfect arcs

  the tree itself

  forgets

  how autumn flayed

  winter froze

  false springs see-sawed

  catching the rising melody of flowers

  it lifts up, joins the song

  its tiny buds a chorus

  to the trumpeting sopranos

  I Remember

  mesembryanthemums

  gaudy daisies greedy for the sun

  snapdragons purple, red and fizzy lemon

  their tribal warpaint bright in every corner

  the dainty dancing of the London Pride

  now near, now far

  bees

  dizzy with choice

  hover besotted

  in the opiate air

  high over all

  the whispering of a thousand diamond leaves

  a secret poplar symphony

  while down below

  step by sun-gorged step

  soft yielding grass

  beneath my toes

  crushes into perfume

  I remember

  the drowsy after-dinner

  satisfaction of summer

  The Turn

  she swings her gossamer green skirts

  a little dusty now

  pirouettes along the promenade

  past late intrepid walkers and the last ice-cream van

  she stands bewildered

  as leaves change colour, flutter to a harder earth

  but look, her gentle sister calls her

  glowing in a sturdy russet dress

  hair the colour of September fields

  braided with brown and gold

  she brushes dew-hung cobwebs from her face

  with a slow smile

 

  the green girl is almost danced out

  birds wheel and flutter their fond goodbyes

  a fingertip touch

  she sighs walks slowly over the hill

  trailing daisies, buttercups and speedwell

  in her bedraggled sun-bleached hair

  her sister turns, strides on

  dancing bonfires in her eyes

  dark crushed berries at her mouth

  sweet chestnuts in her hand

  The Artist and the Angel

  on the erection of a glass barrier at Oscar Wilde’s tomb

  30 November 2011

  forty years you lay

  encased

  embraced

  by Epstein’s feisty angel

  lovers came and lovers went

  wept

  prayed

  left notes and flowers

  another forty years

  your guardian’s power neutered

  the luscious slick

  of pilgrims’ loving lips

  ‘a rash of red graffiti’

  grinds him down

  grain by stony grain

  a cry goes up

  to save the art

  that guards the artist’s bones

  discouragement

  reflecting truth

  and lies

  behind the glass

  the broken angel flies

  while

  down below

  the demon sleeps and smiles

  The Wrong Kind of Apple: Interview with Snow White

  to tell the truth I had got rather bored

  don’t get me wrong

  the dwarfs could not have been kinder

  and of course they were only trying to protect me

  but day after day indoors

  let me tell you

  cleaning up after seven extremely tidy dwarfs does not take very long

  and the washing? – just a few smalls

  I have to hand it to my stepmother

  those disguises were good

  but I would have opened the door to anyone

  I was desperate for a chat, a change of scene

  I wish I’d have woken up in that glass coffin on the hill

  the view must have been wonderful

  then when I did wake up – this dishy prince proposes

  so no I’m not sure I would say it was the wrong kind of apple

  Aspen

  trembling leaves a soothing sea

  as I drift into life, fresh from the dark

  now I can reach the shiny bark

  strip leaves, smell drying sap

  white flesh shocked bare

  inhale the greenness in my lap

  gales of dancing frenzy

  toss yellow diamonds on the grass

  snap jumping-jacks mid-air on bonfire stacks

  crunch into nothing on the garden path

  you’re cursed some say

  Christ’s cross hewn from your slender girth

  but I could wish your thrilling song

  my last sound on this trembling earth

  THANK YOU

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