Perchance to Sleep
She remembers how he
Would watch her sleep
His eyes running over her
From toes to the top of her
Head and she pretending
To be asleep taking control
Of her breathing being the
Actress putting on a show
Keeping her limbs just so
And now and then to move
Them as she would in sleep
No doubt move a little shift
About and she recalls how
Once he touched her and
She had to keep utterly
Frozen her limbs stiff trying
To keep him out of her inner
Being and that touch he gave
Lingered over her thigh and
Then moved along it softly
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poem by Terry Collett
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Lost At Sea.
You remember now the sound of the sea,
The crashing of waves, the white and grey
Gulls in the sky. Mother said, don’t go too
Far out; keep an eye on the young ones.
The cold water made you hop about when
It first went over your bare feet. You knew
Where the young ones were, you could see
Them there at the water’s edge running in
And out as the cold water chased them.
The beach was crowded; the crowds seemed
To occupy each area with their deckchairs,
Windbreakers and towels spread on the sand.
The bright sun shone down heavily; the air
Was still. And Mother’s voice loudly shouting,
Where’s Baba? Where’s she gone? And the
Place she was with the others was without
Her presence now; the panic gripped you.
Your eyes scanned the beach and sea; you ran
Along the beach near the water’s edge gazing
Out at the wide expanse of ocean, ignoring the
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poem by Terry Collett
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After Willie Had Gone
Dotty lies in Willie's bed,
he's gone to fetch Sammy
his poet friend and will return
in a few days. She sniffs
her brother's pillow, smells
his hair oil and aftershave.
She snuggles into the bed
for warmth, pulling his duvet
tight around her, imagining
it's him holding her, his arms
about her. She has a headache,
a coming near the edge, migraine.
Feels sick, light leaking through
the curtains makes it worse.
She puts her head under the
duvet, shuts out the bright light.
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poem by Terry Collett
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Hazel On the Edge
Dunne watches as Hazel unpins her hair.
She can see her facial expression in the
Dressing table mirror. I usually do that,
Dunne says. I thought you’d like a break
From being my maid, Hazel replies, catching
Dunne’s eyes. Dunne fiddles with her fingers,
Stares back at her mistress’s reflection. She
Notices Hazel’s smile. I feel useless if I don’t
Do anything, Dunne says. Hazel turns around
And says, you are never useless to me. They
Look at each other as if time had stopped.
Hazel seems on the edge of a chasm. She
Wants to put her arms around Dunne and
Draw her close to her. She just stands feeling
A falling sensation. Dunne looks away and says,
Did you want me to prepare a bath for you?
Hazel breathes in slowly. Calm, she tells herself.
Dunne goes to the window to peer out onto
The Parisian street below. Hazel moves up
Behind Dunne. She looks at Dunne’s hair,
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poem by Terry Collett
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Glimpse Of Beauty
Humphrey sees the dame going
by the door as he's booking in at
the hotel, for the moment she
seems frozen there as if the gods
had wanted him to get a glimpse
of beauty before she moved on
and back into her life far from his.
He stands there gazing, his eyes
taking in each aspect of her shine:
the hat the shoes, the two piece suit,
the plenty of leg and best of all her
face and the way she was looking
at him. A posh car is waiting outside
the lobby, she stands there her eyes
drinking him in, he ignores the booking
clerk who is talking to him, what is
the jerk on about when he has beauty
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poem by Terry Collett
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Growing Up Before Time
You stood outside
the ABC cinema
with Helen looking
at the framed photographs
of the stills
from the film
then showing
she clutching her doll
Battered Betty
you standing there
pointing out
the main characters
my old man said
he'd take me
to see this
on Saturday
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Ezra Pound's Canto and The Girls's Behind.
It was the year
Elvis died
and you were working
in a warehouse
packing cakes
into pallets
reading Ezra Pound's
Cantos in lunch breaks
or studying
that book
on Spinoza
while the other guys
talked of ballgames
or sex
or who did what
to whom
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Time to Lose.
She was there
in the church
arranging the flowers
at the altar end
where her mother said
she'd be when you knock
at the parsonage door
some moments back
and you entered
through the old oak door
into the silence
and smell of age and flowers
seeing her
in her summer dress
unaware you stood there
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A Christmas Visitation
Anny stands by the door. Anny
Watches as your grandchildren
Open the seasonal gifts. Her blue
Eyes follow as toys are investigated
One after another. You see her there,
Her ghostly hand brushing back her
Curly blonde hair. She smiles at you
As she lifts her eyes from toys to you.
None of the others see her as she walks
About the room, her hands wanting to
Touch the toys, to finger the doll, to hold
Against her chest as once she may in
Better days before the Auschwitz death.
You sip your beer, your eyes watching
As she sits by your wife, taking in excitement
Of voices and grandchildren’s laughter,
Her bright eyes moving from you to laid
Down toys, maybe remembering her own
Childhood excitement of Jewish celebrations,
The candles, the singing, the feel of love,
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poem by Terry Collett
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Outside the Cinema.
After tea
you went out
into the summer evening
without cowboy hat
or rifle
but your six shooter
tucked in the belt
of your jeans
to meet Helen
under the railway bridge
next to the Duke of Wellington
public house
I thought you weren't coming
Helen said
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poem by Terry Collett
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