Kevin Cadwallender: Two Poems

Gullane Bents

Turning under oceans of planets
Hidden by day and a solitary unruly star
That warmed the day like rising bread
And took us to that ‘bents’.

Above sand and shell
We laid out the stained
Quilt of our lives.
Toasted with champagne
Rye bread and memory,
The present, passing moment.

The soft guilty collision
Of our lips and skin
Aligned itself for rain.

I liked you so much
That the sea mourned
My feelings with hushed sighs.

Falling under hidden stars
A shower of poetry fell
From books, and I closed
My eyes to hear the soft
Lap of speech on my boat
Of a heart, in need of land.

Your voice a temporary
Lighthouse in the distance,
A haunting or a warning
from heaven to here.

Our ghosts unable to speak
Of everything, as time turned us in.
And planets busied themselves
To be watched and just, to be.

Emily Bronte’s Black Sofa

My soul has sought a land serene. E.B.

Tiny as a Gondal soldier
You march in my imagination,
From this graveyard
To Top Withens.

All your shy crinoline silent
As you rise in this cold house
To ghost the air.

Breathing softly
On this dark sofa,
Your delicate words
on literature’s spine.

I wind the clock at nine
back to you, back to you…

until passion rekindles
the embers of your flame-heart
and Keeper sidles in and slumps,
sighing by the grate.

Copyright © Kevin Cadwallender 2013

Kevin Cadwallender has published many books of poetry.
A new one is due in September ‘Making Buildings out of Gods & Glue’ (Red Squirrel Press)


About sunnydunny

Poet, publisher, gardener
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