Poems for Remembering by Mike Beveridge

Down by the Salley Gardens Down by the Salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the Salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree. In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears. William Butler Yeats Black River      The first time on Black River’s bank I had the upper hand, Unasked for, as I gently spoke where we stood on black sand. A terror had caught hold of her, strong as the fast dark flow; She begged me swear I would stay true;   I swore it would be so.     The next time on Black River’s bank I knew what must occur; My witless body had betrayed my heart, my mind, and her. She spurned my touch, she cursed me twice, she turned away in grief; I stared alone d...

  All poems copyright Mike Beveridge   Once A Catholic Who would have guessed one day we’d all awake Beneath an unseen cloud whence we can take Uploadings of pornography, giga- Mega, all free, all unforbidden too, Full detailed fantasies of me and you, Acted out with non-stop, noisy vigour?   And who’d have picked good parents might invite Their youngsters’ friends to fornicate the night Away, then chat through breakfast? Or that Jo And Kev from two doors down, both freshly waged, Should grab this chance to get engaged? Engaged?!!? Twelve years on bennies, and five kids in tow!   I like all this. I like these bold attempts In bright new days to function with some sense That morals ought fit people – this is brave! Forgivingness. Transparency. Such times: No manic need to punish lovers’ crimes, Nor call unsanctioned covenants depraved.   I do approve. I do. But for myself, I got addicted young to thinking stealt...