Kenwood House

Kenwood House

I saw her,

Standing in front of a cafe

Overlooking the Heath

And hurried on,

Having returned to the car to collect a shawl,

The wind was a little chilly, even for late August

Cutting through the chiffon of her blouse

Highlighting her shape

The beauty of her form,

It gave me goosebumps

Just to know that we were together

I ran to her side and we embraced.

Greeting his lover in that same spot

They were beautiful together

And it struck me just how wonderful it was

To remember

The many things for which to be thankful.

Too much is made of nothing

When the truth of loss

Is so difficult to understand without

Missing its point,

Every day is an endless journey

Grieving is proof of life,

When the lost boys realised

What was gone

They wanted it back,

Barrie was a wise man.

The need to make reparation

Is a condition of growth,

Hearing birdsong as a reason to smile.

Remembering a kiss for a thousand years,

A tiny freckle on an eyelid,

Is a reminder of our humanity

And through the confusing muddle

Of pleasure and pain

There is thankfulness in its retrieval