Thursday, 1 May 2014

Spontaneous Combustion


The Regent’s Park is one of London’s several major parks and not far from where I live. After strolling on Hampstead Heath, it is my second favourite pastime to walk along the Regent’s Canal towpath, pass by London Zoo’s aviary and over the bridge into the park. Besides acres of beautifully cared for grass and trees; there is also Queen Victoria’s rose garden (splendid in summertime) and a lake that nurtures all kinds of wildlife including beautiful black as well as white swans. 

Ah, but that it is not the only reason I love the park for chance can be a very fine thing indeed...

SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION

I was out in the Regent’s Park, seeking
an ice cream man for a toffee fudge cone,
when I saw him in a window of a café,
his face a rosy hue, baseball cap all askew, 
knew I just had to try my luck with him,
maybe even find out (in time) why a light
in his eyes shone so dim, as if peering
through a sunny haze, seeking something
or someone, perhaps a reason for living?
Ice cream forgotten, I went and (discreetly)
sat down at his table, politely asking
if I may, an ice cold orange juice in solitary
splendour on a large oval tray, pleased
when he nodded, although he did not say
a word, merely continued to look out
of the window (at a world passing him by?)

And who was I, a stranger to enquire?

Oh, how the pucker of his brow, green eyes
and full lips, set my entire being on fire
in a way that had happened only once before,
thought never to strike twice in a lifetime;
yet, here was I, blushing like a teenager, just
for trying to make conversation with a man
who may even turn out to be straight, although
I doubted that (don’t ask me why or whose
need the greater) but we got chatting by and by
(no easy task, I have to say, but got easier)

Many a day since, especially after a falling out,
we’d sulk (separately) in the Regent’s Park,
but invariably make up again, come what may,
at that same café where our lives took off...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2011

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'If The Cap Fits' in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

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