Jenny kiss'd me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kiss'd me.

-- Leigh Hunt (1784 - 1859)

But I'm at home and I just don't belong
So far away from the garden we love
She is what moves in the soul of a dove
Soon I shall see just how black was my night
When we're alone in her city of light
My woman from Tokyo

...

I turn my camera on
I cut my fingers on the way
I feel me slippin away
I wipe my feelings off
You made me untouchable for life
Yeah and it wasn't polite

You hit me like a tom
I don't know where it's from
It hit me like a tom-tom

My thoughts today toward the Child Bride, who will have exhilarating "I was in London when" stories and a sense of death, cheated; they drift also to the Rider, who has just been bumped another inch more grown up. (Confession: first thought -- a retired IRA pensioner deep in his cups about now.)

I have behaved hideously. Callous and thoughtless and hello, what? An asshole. I'm so sorry.

...


This is how you sing warble peck caw this is how you

wake to find me your voice your spine against my

spine that travels a V in the southern sky this is how

you sing this is how you drop the berry into my mouth

this is what you promise this is what you carry and I

could no more hold you than I could hold the sea

when it enters my back door I could no more contain

you than I could contain the sudden dazzling lilt.

-- Rebecca Loudon
from Idiot Savant Caught by Surprise in a Lonely Time

mehr.

mehr.