On the less travelled side of the horizon
Two gypsy birds slide along the Channel trades
The sun inlaying their jewel antics.
When we were young our bodies wrote love in the sand
We burned without fear of carcinoma
And every star was a supernova
Pieces that couldn’t help fitting together
Mortise and tenon and old-time carpentry
When we spoke it was in unison
When we sang it was in harmony
The years have added season and flavour
Words are now often unnecessary
As we get an occasional silence in edgewise
Your eyes are still as blue as the July waves
That used to tickle our holiday feet.
The small definitions of love mean the most
The washed up breezes on the tideline
The faint scars of love and recognition
The casual shrug of a lifetime
The loose thread of conversation
The words unsaid, but understood
Tender around that shared heart collision.
A quarter of a century ago
When you were half the age you are now
And looked for the other half in my direction
It is in the tiny things that love is defined
The pebbles on a Sussex beach
Reaching out to the horizon
You believed in me back then
When there was nothing to believe in
That act of faith led me to believe too.
In me there was always you
Something beautiful found in the spaces
Something hoped for come true
I loved you in all those places
The tidal rivulets and glistening rock pools
Seaweed garnish and mussel shells
Where the shoreline joins the skyline
Lies our personal eternity.
Love is not a panorama
It lives in the cracks and the crevices
The small detail of the laughter lines
And the turn of the face
As the light fades
And because we are used to the world shouting
We sometimes miss it when it whispers.
For Lindy after 25 years of being in love
Roy Stannard 4.4.10