Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

Statelily, sadly came September: but from this newcomer
Reluctantly lurched away the long since debauched summer.

And watching them parting, remembering we too had parted
Perpetually, Jean-Pierre, numbness touched me, tears nigh started.

Stationary and miserable I stood, longtime thinking
Of the many days, of the sunny days, to oblivion sinking.

Days when your voice roused me, summoning me in the morning
To impetuous enterprises: days when returning

In the warm evening, you would grow serious, slip your fingers
Into my palm and be silent: even now the touch lingers,

And my tired eyes ache recovering again the image
Of your fair body, that time has not had heart to ravage.

Men have praised Hylas, Hyacinth and Adonis: better
It is to have known you, seen you, been your beauty's debtor.

Young-limbed, brown-skinned, vivid-eyed, slender, graceful in bearing,
Taking men's eyes and men's hearts, unconscious and uncaring,

Ever the cynosure you were; with merriment always bubbling
From startling red lips, loved then, and still my memory troubling.

But peace, Memory! recall no more. Jean-Pierre I am learning
Painfully, that to the past there is but sad returning.

And since we are parted, parted, and can remeet never,
Past joy becomes present woe, and my praise vain endeavour.

And heavily the hours slope slowly on in bowed procession
When the dark comes, when my mind is tortured by the vision.

O Fade, Fade vision! for only when this fair interlude is forgotten
Can some peace come, heart no more with inward tears be sodden.