Hamnett

HAMNETT

Looking across the empty parts,
     Wastes within which hearts are frigid,
          Keener touches dance through dandelion,
               Weary me that sensed the dark with dark senses

The golden chains of life flash through me,
     As if I am made of glass, mottled cloudy blue,
          That could convince a demon-witch who seeded you,
               Laid bare on spurs, limpid larvae like cankers,
                    Giving life through chrysalis,
                         Down on which mothers spoiled favour

Your smile, I remember through pellucid visions,
     Found when I searched deep pools,
          Lights up pits and leaves my senses embalmed,
               Your mop, like a bright sheaf,
                     Then as bloodied knives tear through aspic,
                          Purple moments fade to blackness

You I remember through the dullest things,
     Like wicket gates that make baileys,
          Shrubs that tower like trees,
               Old doors that serve grand churches,
                    In my heart you grow again,
                         I knew it before it was seen,
                             Found you alive in my pen