Poetry about Poetry ... original or previously published poetry, March 2001
On Hearing Edwin Morgan read 'Strawberries'
I confess I'm not familiar with his work,
My loss as I now see. His fluent verse
Intrigues me. Pilate's Fortingall appearance,
For example, appears convulsive, guilty, nervous, terse.
As no doubt it was. He washed his hands.
This poem conjures up my erring faith.
An academic poem nevertheless,
It invites me to review my disbelief.
The academic mantle fits him well:
No longer young, yet freshly erudite,
The poet stands, offers helpful hints
To embryonic poets in first flight.
But 'Strawberries' quite takes me by surprise:
A personal experience, he affirms.
Two lovers sitting on a garden step,
Engaged in fruity foreplay as the evening dims.
The atmosphere is hushed: we hold our breath:
Eyes locked on Morgan, as the lovers lean
Towards each other, drawing out the feast,
Conjuring in their eyes next Act, next Scene.
How tender! and unexpectedly arousing -
Sensuously he weaves a sticky web.
I sigh for summer, in that garden, to be sitting
With those strawberries, sharing Edwin Morgan's step.