From this I will not sway nor flop nor halt:
If around your heart the crowds are sparse,
And I who follow him now free or shelter
Am proud to come to a more tempered place,
And if a blunder starts to come to me
Dispatched by you, crying that all is crumpled
Underarm, theories smashed, the entry
Into hallowed places crudely hashed,
Then I would come at once my love with love
Singing to waster areas the sight
Of horseflies and Swan Vestas and turtle necks
Their files raised like knuckles ready for fight.
In such surroundings, after the disease
Of devils, you and I would live a-piece.
(Apologies to Eavan Boland whose poem ‘Ready for Flight’ I have shamelessly versioned in the hope of commenting on a life, its loves and the battle to accommodate all. The original poem has long been a source of strength since I first read it in 1996 in a collection called ‘Irish Love Poetry’, published by Gill & Macmillan Ltd).