it doesn’t matter if it followed
a single night of passion
weeks of an affair
or a lifelong commitment
the consequence must be embraced

this stirring has its own life
a tiny soul to share and shelter
its own fate to pursue

deformed or stillborn
perfect in all dimensions
it doesn’t matter
once conceived the love poem
insists on being born

this one is for me
it sleeps fitfully on the page
a hideous beauty
with a bitter cry
that only i can hear

Image credit:Dr. Partha Sarathi Sahana

Cameron McClure doesn’t exist. He is the pen-name for a  permanently retired civil servant who lives in Northern Ireland and likes nothing better than competitive banter over a pint or two. He believes it will all come right on the night because he’s happier that way and no-one has yet proved him wrong though a lot of well-meaning people try to for some reason.