1.

Blushing rose
we exchanged tender gazes,
our eyes
reflecting a young amour

***

2.

I write this month’s ultimate poems,
swinging in ecstatic melancholy;
as I recall this month
where my pen became keys

***

3.

An uninspired choice faces the UK,
I choose not a party,
won over by truth-like promises.
Instead I choose a voice.

***

4.

In the wake of idealism,
we’re left
with the slime of an familiar
new bureaucracy.

***

5.

The underground a gallery
of covert satisfaction
and visible disappointment,
as Metros are abandoned
en-route back to reality.

Note:

Poems 3-5 are older poems, about the general election in the UK.