All things being equal, as they are upon this day,
The time of light and that of dark equivalent of span,
We sat upon the beaten bench above the traffic crawl,
Sipping from the draining hours as they broke and ran.
Aloft the terraced houses, huddled ramshackle and spent,
A shepard sky of red delight beneath the stars above,
As dimly they revealed themselves when night came closing in,
Soft focused glitterati beads that shone on fledgling love.
And looking in her eyes I thought of all that was to come,
Of all the kingdoms I might walk if she were at my side,
Bedazzled by her tilting head, the bronze cascade of hair,
A chisel jimmied in my heart and snapped it open wide.
All things being equal, as they were that vernal point,
When spring had risen in her breast and sang within my head,
Little did we realise these moments had a twin,
Equality in darker terms when Autumn dared to tread.
Copyright © Tony Bush