(inspired by Patrick Kavanagh)
(for Shelley)
I met this wild woman across the Isle of Man,
she touched me where a railway was.
She took me down to Port Soderick
to lay all her dreams on the line.
She was a raving girl from Ballasalla,
with a compartment for each of my moods.
By the time she laughed in Ronaldsway,
I was out of my depth with her love.
In Ballabeg, she ran over my ricketty words,
made me sing with an anxious refrain.
Now, I’m missing the great beauty that’s gone,
all that warmth and the light in her eyes.
If ever I’m back in that Port Erin sun,
I’ll chuck her the flowers from this poem.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
