Anton's Ideas

Anton Wills-Eve on world news & random ideas

Category: romantic verse

INFINITE SUMMER LOVE


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/summer/”>Summer</

wondering what my wife will be thinking under anaesthetic, undergoing a major operation soon

INFINITE SUMMER LOVE

My love  are you thinking of us both,

When plighting each to each our troth,

Of loving days and sweet maternity,

And swearing fidelity for all eternity?

 

Never doubt my passion nor your own,

A love like ours was no temporal device.

In all my prayers I have always shown

Thanks for your heart, the inner grace

That lit the fires we have always known,

Never dimming, still brightly so ablaze.

 

Our endless love has no sunset and no dawn,

Just a summer’s day filled with infinite hours

Of heartfelt heartbeats shared by us each morn.

Please guard them Lord. Please keep them ours.

AWE

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LIFE LINES


 

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/i-cant-stay-mad-at-you/”>I Can’t Stay Mad at You</a>

the art of never regreting, begrudging or accusing.

 

LIFE LINES  

I sought out my love of former years

With no expectations, regerets or tears

Just a hope that we might yet re-ignite

Our flames of a former summer’s night

No promises were made so none to keep

Of any binding true vows to never sleep

On my part with any fair Anne or Maude

Or she with any charming Jean or Claude

Thus on seeing her again I felt a nudge

Of love and fondness but held no grudge

At the artless way she dallied with me

Accepting my kiss almost nonchalantly

For I also could tell with my roving hand

That other fingers had explored that land

And over the years there’d been many a lip

Had found its way twixt her cup and her slip.

AWE

 

 

COSI FAN (ALMOST) TUTTE


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/when-childhood-ends/”>When Childhood Ends</a>

how a friend of mine heroically ended his childhood.

 

Cosi Fan (almost) Tutte

 

John’s hesitant speech and terrible stutter

Belied the kind heart which could never utter

The words he really wanted so much to say,

And phrase in an acceptable and loving way

The girls he knew, and who knew each other,

Treated him like an annoying, younger brother

Always bothering them with an unfinished word

And gestures of despair, which they all found absurd.

 

So Jane and Cathy, with Kim, Liz and Anne,

Decided to find out if he was a mouse or a man.

They hatched a vile plot to tease him rotten,

First appearing attracted then leaving him forgotten.

Jane was the first to have a go at poor John,

Telling him he was handsome, not laying it on

Too thick, just letting him wonder if it could be true

That a girl actually liked him. But what should he do?

 

She said she would meet him behind the school gym

But just went on her way, oh how she hurt him!

John could not fathom why people wanted to make fun

In this way of any boy. What on earth had he had done

To hurt or harm in a malicious or mean way,

Girls he liked but to whom he was unable to say

That his heart beat as normally as any young boy?

Oh why did they treat him like a cast off old toy?

 

He waited an hour then went home alone.

To be met by Cathy who, in a really bitchy tone,

Said, “Hi John. Jane ditched you? What d’you expect?

Think she’d cover you in kisses, you pathetic reject?”

And after this minx had covered him in shame,

Kim stopped him by his home and shouted his name.

“Hey, John, want a cuddle? Some hopes for you mate!

“You can’t even ask a girl seductively out on a date.”

 

His response was so fierce it stopped her quite still.

N –n–no, I kn-kn–know I cc—can’t: BUT I W-W-WILL!”

At this point Liz appeared, and wiggled her hips,

Then taunted poor John with her pursed, pouting lips.

He raced to his door and went quickly inside.

“Think you’re safe now? Home’s nowhere to hide!”

Anne teased him, “Earlier I copied your house key.

Come on lover boy, now it’s just you and me!”

 

Poor Anne did not know just how deeply John felt

Real love for her, but with the cards he’d been dealt,

Could never express it, the words would not come

’til his brain just snapped and he was no longer dumb!

“Go on! mock me! Make fun of me! That’s if you dare,

But beware of me Anne. You see, never did I care

For anyone but you and, as you just walked in, then

I presume that you want me, so come up to my den.”

 

And there, ‘mid his books, tablet, laptop and all,

He crushed her in an embrace, but Anne did not call

For help. No, she just passionately kissed and caressed

The most wonderful boy she’d ever held to her breast.

“John! What’s happened? You can talk! And you’re great.

I love you so much, but I am afraid it’s getting late.”

He replied, “My parents are away, so now it’s up to you .

You’re welcome to stay here if you really want to.”

 

She took out her mobile and told mum not to worry,

She was going to be late and of course would not hurry

Back until morning, it was quite usual for them all.

Then turned off her phone to block any incoming call.

John listened, delighted, taking her in his arms again

To spend the night showing her he was one of the men.

And never did Anne tell Jane, Liz, Cathy or Kim,

What they had missed by making such cruel fun of him.

 

 

AWE

 

MARY-BETH


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/first-crush/”>First Crush</a>

what would I say to her today if I met my first childhood crush?

 

                                              MARY-BETH

 

With angel eyes and golden curls

She laughed out loud as little girls

Do, when told a joke or funny story,

Revealing her beauty in all its glory.

 

First day back at school, aged seven,

I scarce believed this gift from Heaven

Had joined us all to learn and play

And totally capture my heart that day.

 

When she spoke and asked me my name,

I told her, and politely did the same.

“Mary-Beth”, she said with lisp and twang,

And asked if she could join our gang.

 

But her Yankee voice and cheeky grin

Was all she needed to be welcomed in

To all our games and the songs we sang,

Above all of ours her sweet voice rang

 

Loudest in songs and when we’d pray.

One Saturday I asked her home to play

And oh what really made us so glad,

Was her American father knowing my dad!

 

But as so often happens when very young,

Before love in our lives had yet begun,

Her family had to return to the USA

Just eight months later to the day

 

Since I first set eyes on Mary-Beth.

As we waved them off I felt like death.

Losing such a friend at the age of eight

And thinking of the years I had to wait

 

To tell her how much I loved her so

Broke my heart. Would I ever know

Her cheeky face again or what sort of life

She might lead as someone else’s wife?

 

So if I saw her now this is what I hope I’d say,

“Sixty odd years ago you lit up each day.

And Mary-Beth, you’re still looking swell,

With hubby, kids and grandchildren as well!”

AWE

ANGELA JANE


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/shoulda-woulda-coulda/”&gt;Shoulda Woulda Coulda</a>

and still might!

 

ANGELA JANE

 

Oh Angela Jane, Oh Angela Jane

Repeating her name, again and again,

In the bus, the car and even the train.

Though sweetest when strolling alone in the lane

In all kinds of weather, sun, hail, snow or rain.

 

Her long flaxen locks and smiling blue eyes

Are a constant delight to my heart as it sighs

Imagining she’s beside me from night to sunrise.

But greater by far will be the heavenly surprise

On that day I awake and  there next to me she lies.

 

Anton Wills-Eve

RESERVED FOR ALL OF US


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/honorific/”>Honorific</a&gt;

the person we  all have to choose

RESERVED FOR ALL OF US

my world has closed its door

and thrown away the key.

Jacqueline was my everything,

as slowly I watched her die.

she took all meaning, love, and

happiness away from me,

in agony for both of us, I watched her

leave this life. God, why?

she did no wrong, unless to share

her love was too great a sin.

but in it I shared. And I was the seducer,

so why punish her?

the cancer, as it ate away her beauty

and wrinkled her silken skin,

was evil. It must have been,

to destroy beauty so radiant and rare.

I need my Jacqueline so much

I would gladly my own life cease

if doing so would reunite us.

but that’s a question I cannot even ask.

I pray, depressed and tortured as I am,

for her soul’s eternal peace.

but suicide could part us for

eternity; a truly pointless task.

it was her pleading eyes as she

fought the pain, trying to raise a smile,

that hurt me most. Please tell me why.

just nineteen. What did she do?

some say I shall in time forget.

what sort of mind, for even a little while,

could lose sight of her beseeching plea,

to end her life, asking me too

to give a fatal dose, saying sorry,

knowing I could not carry the Cross

of taking another human life.

she raised her face to say goodbye

one last time. I kissed her as her

humanity ebbed away. I felt the loss

so painfully, I could barely kiss

her happy face, while leaving her to die.

in my grief I do not know

if I eased her pain and killed her too.

I can’t blame myself if I did.

my love was stronger than my will.

my heart will never mend. Or,

if it does, I know I will not be

the same grief-stricken, broken

man, who today, on a nearby hill,

buried his heart and soul and every

part of him. All he could see

was a girl he loved. No other

mourners impinged upon his sight.

God, you cannot take my loss

away, or return my Jacqueline to me.

But thank you for leaving me to weep

alone, each day and night.

Anton Wills-Eve

TI AMO


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/she-said/”>S/he Said</a>

neighbour’s thoughts

TI AMO

I am so tired.

the very pressure

of my fingers

on these keys

drains me

of all energy.

Only the act of thinking

seems to leave me

fit to carry on

telling the world

the story

of my life.

But why?

Who cares?

Why bother blogging.?

It is only bragging

spelled two letters

differently.

Is this the sum

of my existence?

Two letters changed

for two more

of equal insignificance?

No deeds

worth recounting,

no words

worth quoting,

noticed by few

missed by fewer.

Yet I had a dream,

she kept me awake

my heart beating,

my hope that love

would not

pass me by

every day

until I died.

I begged her,

‘smile on me’

and on all

my whole world;

you’ll raise the sun

and stem the tide

of that depression

which crushes me

night and day.

And this

you did.

What can I say?

Do you think

the world

will hear my heart,

with you

beating upon it,

and would this

justify those words,

of this

our love,

I did not

dare to say

to any others;

Lest by blogs

and brags

I might our secret

passion give away.

Anton Wills-Eve

ANNE CESTOR


a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/familial-feasts/”>Familial Feasts</a>

to a relative 

                        ANNE CESTOR

The prettiest, cutest gal I’ve seen

 ‘Come here boy’ eyes, n’ Pouting lips’,

You must know the little lady I mean.

 

 

She swings with her  arms around my neck,

Running her hands through my hair while saying,

‘Are you coming  Mister? Well then, what the heck?’

 

 

Let’s get to it lover boy before the sun goes down,

That melting, loving look as she kisses me, ‘wow,

The sort of girl I’d decorate if I had a crown.

 

 

Now the sun’s gone to bed, and the moon’s so bright

And all that’s left for me to do is what a man’s gotta do.

On a  bed of soft straw with  the moon my only light.

 

 

For this little cutie,  my own darling Anne

I’d arrange such a feast as you’ve never seen

So everyone would, go, every woman and man

 

 

Thus leaving our corner of the world to just us two

And even better than that, know what we’d do?

We’d swing though the branches of our ancestral tree

The only place you’ll find any reference to my Anne and me.

About fifty thousand years have gone by since  we first met

And still we haven’t stopped loving each other yet.

 

Anton Wills-Eve

Cosi Fan (almost) Tutte


Moved to Tears

tears in the sense of ‘ in a hurry’ not weeping (hope your Mozart’s good enough for the title!)

Cosi Fan (almost) Tutte

John’s hesitant speech and terrible stutter

Belied the kind heart which could never utter

The words he really wanted so much to say,

And phrase in an acceptable and loving way.

The girls he knew, and who knew each other,

Treated him like an annoying, younger brother

Always bothering them with an unfinished word

And gestures of despair, which they all found absurd.

So Jane and Cathy, with kim, Liz and Anne,

Decided to find out if he was a mouse or a man.

They hatched a vile plot to tease him rotten,

First appearing attracted then leaving him forgotten.

Jane was the first to have a go at poor John,

Telling him he was handsome, not laying it on

Too thick, just letting him wonder if it could be true

That a girl actually liked him. But what should he do?

She said she would meet him behind the school gym

But just went on her way, oh how she hurt him!

John could not fathom why people wanted to make fun

In this way of any boy. What on earth had he had done

To hurt or harm in any malicious, mean, way,

Girls he liked but to whom he could not say

That his heart beat as normally as any other young boy?

Why, oh why did they treat him like a cast off old toy?

He waited an hour then went home alone.

But was stopped by Cathy’s really bitchy tone,

Hi John. Jane ditched you? What did you expect?

Think that she’d kiss you, you pathetic reject?”

And after this minx had covered him in shame,

Kim stopped him next, shouting out his name.

John, want a cuddle? Some hopes for you mate!

Why you can’t even ask a girl out for a date.”

His response was so fierce it stopped her quite still.

N–n–no, I kn—kn–know I cc—can’t: BUT I W-W-WILL!”

At this point Liz appeared, and wiggled her hips,

Taunting poor John with her pursed, pouting lips.

He raced to his door and went quickly inside.

“Think you’re safe here? Home’s nowhere to hide!”

Smiling, Anne teased him, “Earlier I copied your key.

Now, come on lover boy, it’s just you and me!”

Anne had no way of knowing just how deeply John felt

A real love for her, but with the cards he’d been dealt,

Could not show his passion, the words would not come;

Then his brain finally snapped. He was no longer dumb!

Go on. Mock me, make fun of me. That’s if you dare,

But beware of me Anne. You see, never did I care

For anyone but you and,as you just walked in here,then

I assume that you want me, so come on up to my den.”

And there, ‘mid his books, tablet, laptop and all

He crushed her in an embrace, but Anne did not call

For help. No, she just passionately kissed and caressed

The most wonderful boy she’d ever held to her breast.

What’s happened John? You can talk and you’re great.

I love you so much, but I am afraid it’s getting late.”

Well my parents are away so now it’s all up to you.

You’re welcome to stay, that’s if you’d really like to.”

She took out her mobile and told mum not to worry,

She was going to be late and of course would not hurry

Back until morning, it was quite usual for them all.

Then turned off her phone to block any incoming call.

John listened, delighted, and took her in his arms again

To spend the night showing her he was one of the men.

And lovestricken Anne never told Jane,Liz,Cathy or Kim

How much they had missed by making cruel fun of him.

Anton Wills-Eve

Late Middle Age


Moved to Tears

last time moved to tears

Late Middle Age

I Look not on the flowers that have faded

I dwell not on summer days in the sun,

Now replaced by memories of those jaded

Repetitive fetes without fun.

I Cheer my hopes and my heart, growing older,

With dreams not of what might have been.

But with images of still possible laughter,

With a love that is yet to be seen.

Seen, yes, but where can I find it

As I pass into late middle years?

When my eyes and my heart least expect it

A face fascinated me and filled me with tears.

Tears, lest too little time was left to me

Not enough for another slow dance,

But in that Indian summer I could still see

Both a deeper and longer romance.

So now I look not on petals all shrunken,

I just picture my new found adored.

And I’ve given up days with my drunken

Friends, whose jokes I no longer applaud.

Anton Wills-Eve

SALLY


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/truth-or-dare/”>Truth or Dare</a>

Now just how honest is this? I mean how possible, how likely and how truthful?

Sally

Her smile was intimate and full of fun

The face, the eyes knew well how it was done.

One tender, touching hand caressed my face.

Our wooded, deserted glen was just the place.

 

Had she led me there on purpose or by happy chance,

Had she deliberately given me a seductive glance,

Telling me I could do whatever my passion willed?

Had the moment been planned as totally as it thrilled?

 

My heart, my lips, my body pressed against her chest,

With all my libido rising as I caressed her breast.

If paradise is even half the pleasure of this

The promise of eternal love lies in one such kiss.

 

We slowly wound ourselves around each other there

I stroking her locks, she rumpling my wavy hair.

She pulled me to the ground to complete my pleasure

We took our time, why hinder love’s timeless treasure?

 

“Oh Sally, I cannot live for even one more day

Until I hear your answer. Oh darling Sally say

‘I love you’. Oh please, tell me you always shall.”

She answered, “You know I will, you gorgeous gal!.”

 

AWE

A SCHOOL PHOTOGRAPH OF AN OLD GIRLFRIEND WHO HAS JUST DIED


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/supercalifragilisticexpialidocious/”>Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious</a&gt;

a photo of an old girlfriend who I have just heard has died

ON A SCHOOL PHOTOGRAPH OF AN OLD GIRLFRIEND WHO HAS JUST DIED

Oh my Glen. I miss you so.

Why oh why did you have to go?

In your photo, so shy and pretty

You fill me still with love and pity.

As I recall each innocent kiss.

Was I always the one you missed?

Empty hearted I still ache for you.

Look! You’re smiling at me, too.

With your brown check school dress

And those fair hands, whose soft caress,

Always left me lonely and broken hearted,

Your hair on my cheek, each time we parted.

Then that April night, under our twilight tree,

What happened to make you stop kissing me?

Did you keep my love with you as you went,

Leaving all the coin of our realm unspent?

So very young.

So smiling bright.

My sun by day.

My moon by night.

My singing wren.

My snow white dove.

My own sweet Glen.

My one and only love!

Anton Wills-Eve

BUT WE CAN’T DO THAT NOW


in reply to ‘me time’ prompt

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/me-time/”>Me Time</a>

BUT WE CAN’T DO THAT NOW

How I loved my bracing early morning run

Along the golden beach in the dawning sun.

Then a cup of chocolate and a croissant, piping hot,

At the little cafe where I once forgot

To bring any money so I couldn’t pay

But they laughed and left it to the next Saturday.

Followed an hour dong this on my new i-pad;

Telling all the world if I was happy or sad.

Then round the shops for our weekend food,

Including a treat if I thought I’d been good

At school that week. But the bit I  loved best

Was choosing my clothes as I got dressed

To meet Sandra for lunch. Next off to the game,

How her loving, cheeky smile was always the same,

Each week  we held hands cheering as our team lost or won:

And oh, that kiss, going home when the day was done.

But we can’t do that now. Why, oh why am I so young,

As cancer strikes me? My Sandra’s life has hardly begun.

 

Anton Wills-Eve

ODE TO MY WIFE


word prompt for Feb 14. St.Valentine’s day

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/cupids-arrow/”>Cupid’s Arrow</a>

 

              ODE TO MY WIFE

 

To thee, my wife, my love, my life

I own all pleasure I have known.

My guardian through all harm and strife

Whose heart beats always with my own.

I offer you everything that is mine

And pray each day in gratitude

To God who made you so divine.

Adopting no hypocritical attitude

In praising your eyes, your hair, your face

Without which I’ll die each morn and night

When thou art taken to a higher place

To dwell forever in God’s loving sight.

 

But, my darling I well can see

T’is better mourning fall to me,

Than thou remain, thy tears to shed,

Each night without me in thy bed’

 

Anton Wills-Eve

DAYBREAK


 

 DAYBREAK                               

The starless, sunless start of daybreak

Was not the sole sunless overture that day.

The place beside me, as I awoke early,

Was deserted. My lover had gone away.

The night before, as she seduced me,

I ignored my heart and placed my trust

In her passionate words of true devotion,

Believing they betokened love not lust.

Tears flooded down my sunken cheeks

As the sun appeared in the Eastern sky.

Yet even then I could not bring my mind

To picture her face and to say goodbye.

Now, I wonder, will my soul ever know

So cancerous an emotion or heart so sore?

If she never returns how can I forgive her?

For I would, she has only to open my door.

No note, no sign that all she wanted

Was carnal pleasure at my expense.

She was lovely, as only those we love are;

Against her smile I had no defence.

The dawn, to morning, fast is changing,

The heat of the day will soon burn all.

And yet my heart will stay cold as ice

And my hopes as empty as trees in Fall.

Darling, I beg you, return again to hold me

Please let us enjoy one more night of desire.

For then, if again you should try to leave me,

I will feel no chill while rekindling our fire.

AWE

The song I have yet to sing.


in answer to the wordpress prompt challenge ‘unsung hero’ for dec 15th 2014.

THE SONG I HAVE YET TO SING

 

Today I read your letter recalling long ago
Telling me you still craved my loving heart.
More, that this craving still torments you so
That you wish we had made love, not strayed apart.

Who told you that my frozen heart was broken?
Who saw those shattered shards of ice ?
My darling, doubt not my loving or your own
For a passion like ours is no temporal device.

My life is filled with heroes I have seen
In every field of fame, some aged some young.
Yet none approaches what to me you’ve been,
My own unrequited love, and still unsung.

For more than fifty years your smiling face,
Strengthening my faith, belief and certainty
That God would sustain us by His love,
And reunite us both for ever in eternity,

Has helped me live through ages of despair
Lest never again would I touch your silken skin,
Your face, your arms, the beauty of your hair;
Nor kiss again your lips, nor hear you sing.

And so in all my prayers and all my praise,
I keep alive the fire that once we knew.
For, although we have reached our Autumn days,
Those shards of ice may yet kindle flames anew.

And even if we have to wait for paradise
Before we meet again, in heaven above.
There I’ll be your Dante and you my Beatrice,
As we kiss again, hearts entwined in timeless love.

 

Anton Wills-Eve

Ode To My Wife


A short reflection for December the 2nd.

Ode To My Wife

To thee, my wife, my love my life

I owe all pleasure I have known

My guardian through all harm and strife

Whose heart beats always with my own.

I offer thee everything that is mine

And pray each day in gratitude

To God who made thee so divine

Adopting no hypocritical attitude

In praising thy eyes, thy hair thy face

Without which I’ll die each morn and night

When thou art taken to a higher place

To dwell forever in God’s loving sight.

But, my darling, I well can see

T’is better mourning fall to me

Than thou remain, thy tears to shed,

Each night without me in thy bed.

********************************************

Don’t Ask


Look not on me with doubting in your mind,

Or seek to fathom my passion, or ask its kind.

Nor ask the reason for your own heart’s song,

The answer is too far away, and far too long.

Be glad you feel for me as I know you do,

Being lost in me will twice suffice for you.

But loving, still wondering what you feel,

Is false joy for such love is never  real.

If I make love, sensing you are in any doubt

My love is just for you, then nought will out.

Save lustful satisfaction, with no inner fires.

They only burn if I am all your heart desires.