Dabblings

She of the Beautiful Mind seeks to inspire me in my creative dabblings. To that end, she gave me 'The Ode Less Travelled.' by Stephen Fry, the British writer, playwright and actor. Wonderful book--more of a workbook. I'm now deeply immersed in the arcana of iambs, end-stopping, enjambments, pentameters, partial rhymes and so forth. One hopes that this might drastically improve the quality of even the rather meagre current output.
Still, I rather enjoyed this;

Here Now, this Present.

I saw you pale blue dreaming
In curtain-crack light,
and in yesterday’s sunset as mists blew in and away.
And my grays lifted; some semblance of calm amidst these endless gales.
Such as now catch the throat and water the eyes; forecasts of showers tomorrow.

Were you peaceful, then?
Are you quieter now?
That sand that you left in tidal pools-that grit that tore away
your skin and rubbed me less raw--
such is our way for this peculiar present
where no news intrudes.

Not my third wheel, not my odd number…
Here--here! is permission to reflect?

To hear yourself.
To listen to other stories.
To write this story.
Complete of my images to savour; echelons of black birds sharp, whites of spray, red pinpricks, momentary salvations.
And for me, the details of when and where to find clearer skies,
Of how to say goodbye and how to return,
Here.

Non-existent metre, puerile imagery and so forth, but perhaps something.
And all because I love her so.