For my favourite Aunt

You ask me

Of the verse

You made me promise

To write for you

And I want so much to write

How can I

When I know I can’t

Put down in writing

All I feel about you

What you are to me

Shall I just tell you instead

That you are

The only one I know

Who growing old in age

Has not lost

The untouched innocence

Of early youth

Like a fresh and unsoiled breeze

Blowing gently

In this polluted world

And of course that I love you

That I want you to be

Just be there

For me

A selfish need

For so many other reasons too

 Most of all

Because in your frail body

I see life

In its liveliest form

Bubbling

I must tell you too

That I rarely write for people

And prefer something abstract

So my inadequacy

At expressing

All I feel

Will not show