Head Over Heels

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

I was seventeen when I wrote today's poem. I only slightly revised it after rediscovering it on an old exercise book in 2010. It does not appear in any of my collections, but I plan to include it in a final collection - Diary of a Time Traveler - that I am already collating for publication in 2015 when I will hit 70. 

It was sheer hell having to keep my sexuality a secret (gay relationships were still illegal in the UK then) but I was having a great time discovering its potential for love and romance.

Never let anyone tell you a gay person can't do romance; the heterosexual majority has no monopoly on that any more than it has on love. 

Oh, yes, and half a century on, I am still a shameless romantic...so I was thrilled to discover only recently that there is a new Doris Day album called My Heart available on cd with songs from 1985/1986 that I had not heard before. Doris must have been in her sixties then, her voice as magical as ever. 

HEAD OVER HEELS 

Long before I even knew it,

I was in love with you

Long before I dared show it,

I was in love with you

I had tried closing mind-spirit

to feelings left by
wet dreams I dare not confess

for playing the fool,
haunted by the impossible,
but my body had other ideas,
and dreamed on

Once I understood

the true depth of my feelings,

I struggled to deny them,

put them out of heart and mind,

resume friendship’s ways

without love’s precious bane

burdening me so,

making believe I could break free

of love’s sweet slavery,

binding me to you more fiercely

with each passing day

even as I remained in denial 

that I am gay,

so binding were the ties

of childhood, carrying its lies 

into an adulthood, 

tearing itself apart for shame,

my heart refusing 

to acknowledge male bonding 

by any other name - until

a day came we lay down on a patch 

of grass in a friendly wood, 

sunshine bringing the trees alive

with a music and poetry 

of love awakening in me a desire 

I could ignore no longer

I leaned over, kissed you

and closed my eyes, waiting

for a rush of rage

(even blows) to show me
the sheer futility
of loving you, my being gay,
world as it is

Your touch when it came

was a long, gentle kiss

Love’s bliss, when it came,

no sweeter than for us

Copyright R. N. Taber 1963; 2010