Janice Windle Poems

Good news is no news.
I want to write about
the party that was unmitigated fun;
the day that ended happily as it began;
...

These poems are from a little book that I am writing and illustrating, about my holiday last week with my lover, Dónall, on the Amalfi Coast. We had a lovely little cabin on the side of the cliffs in Praiano, with a wonderful private balcony. Most of the eleven poems I wrote last week were composed there, in our own little Garden of Eden. This was not a honeymoon but it sealed our feelings for each other and confirmed Dónall as the love of my life.

1. On the Balcony:
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New born
and strawberry blond!
Your tiny head
thatched like your father's
...

Harry had a fault – the need
to get in cars and drive at speed.
He had no manners or decorum
behind the wheel – his worried Mum
...

It was one of those nights
when the moon was a bright token,
a silver coin that we would spin
and on its fall, win - always win -
...

All the men I’ve ever loved
all the ways I’ve ever loved
compounded in us
...

Sea
Silvered steel.
Horizon bright
below the fitful sun.
...

Stare into the space
inside my head. Your face swims
cradled in gloved hands.
...

Has the time arrived? Is it here?
Must I at last believe the mirror?
Must I accept, must I confront my fear
that my reflection is no ghastly error?
...